


Of Like Kynde

by Terias



Series: Birds of a Feather [2]
Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends, 魔法使いの嫁 | Mahou Tsukai no Yome | The Ancient Magus Bride
Genre: Foster kids, Gen, So are the Matobas, Supernatural Elements, The youkai are up to something
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-02-04 17:31:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12775950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terias/pseuds/Terias
Summary: Nowadays, Natsume Takashi's days are mostly filled with normal everyday activities: School, friends, and family. Of course, it hasn't always been like that. Life before the Fujiwaras was awful with so little hope of being understood. So, when he hears that the foster child that the Kitamotos had taken in is being haunted, he can't ignore the situation. Unlike other similar issues he had to resolve before, this turns out different because she's like him. She has the Sight.





	1. The Photograph

Natsume could count on one hand that which changed the normal seasonal patterns of the Yatsuhara youkai: festivals/banquets, annual prize-winning events, divine beings, demons, and exorcists.

A day ago, he had noticed that more and more youkai were suspiciously grouped together, whispering to one another. It had been some time since they were so wary of him. If it were the first two, someone would have bragged about drinking or whatever the prize was. If it involved exorcists or demons, Natsume always found himself dropped right in the middle of their conflict.

This leaves the final option. He always finds it curious that youkai were reticent in the matters of divine beings, especially the more powerful ones. They would gather around in awe and worship, and most were very protective of said god. Again, he was only informed if there was a problem. However, Natsume senses that this time was different.

“Whoa! She’s like a foreigner!!” Nishimura cried out loud during break.

Kitamoto thwapped his childhood friend on the back of his head. “Hey, that’s my family’s foster child you’re talking about. Don’t be rude.”

Glancing behind him, he sees Nishimura clutching a photograph with admiring eyes.

Kitamoto grins when he sees Natsume looking. “Our family’s taken in a girl. She’s only distantly related to Mom, so you can’t see the resemblance. And, I think my parents said her mom was from Ireland.”

Nishimura shoves the photograph under Natsume’s nose, who instinctually leans back. “Look, look! I’ve never seen a natural redhead before!”

Carefully taking the picture, Natsume gazes at the back of some furry, rabbit-eared youkai. He can see bright crimson hair between the youkai’s ears and pale skin but nothing of the face. Well. He passes the photograph back to Kitamoto. “She’s pretty,” he says calmly.

Flailing his arms for a few moments, Nishimura finally lands his palms down onto his desk. “Ugh! Natsume!” He lays his head down bemoaning how people could clearly be so unaffected by a cute girl.

Likely having heard enough of his whining, Kitamoto flicks his ear and Nishimura yelps in surprise. “Cut it out. She’s too young for you.”

A curious Sasada leans over Kitamoto’s shoulder to glance at the photo. “Oh, is that Hatori Chise?”

“Yeah,” Kitamoto says with a smile.

She frowns slightly, fingers curled under her chin and other hand holding her elbow. “There’s been a lot of strange rumors about that elementary school transfer student…”

“Like what?” Kitamoto asks. Nishimura stops at the tone his closest friend’s voice has taken and leans back in his chair with a serious tilt to his head.

“Oh… that she stares off into space and seems to startle easily. Sometimes it’s like she forgets she’s in the middle of a conversation before she turns and runs off like she only then remembered she needed to do something.” Sasada’s eyes sharpen as she glances at Natsume. “She barely talks so no one knows what’s going on in her head.”

“She’s extremely shy but also forgetful,” Kitamoto says easily. “She’s moved around so much that she doesn’t know how to make friends.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought, but a few of our classmates caught her talking to herself by the river. They said it’s weird to see someone else do it since there’s already a resident in town like that.” She adjusts her glasses with a smirk.

“…Could you be talking about me?” Natsume says with a stiff smile.

“Not at all, Natsume-kun. I couldn’t possibly be alluding to you as the resident self-talker. Of course you don’t do that.” Sasada’s voice is too sweet and sarcastic that Nishimura bursts into laughter.

Running self-conscious fingers through his hair, Natsume sighs. “It’s easier to remember things when I list them out to myself.”

His three friends exchange a look, but when Natsume gives them a puzzled expression they all smile politely. Then Nishimura laughs nervously until Kitamoto elbows him in the side. This sets off a bickering fight between them. Losing interest, Natsume turns back to his desk and ignores that they’re acting especially odd today.


	2. In The Know

The next morning, Kitamoto was nearly to the Fujiwaras' gate when Natsume leaves his house. When his friend swings his leg off the bicycle, his brown eyes are extremely sharp with worry. He doesn’t look like he’s slept last night. “I need to talk to you.”

Natsume briefly looks down at Nyanko-sensei in his arms, who gives him a 'he's your friend, deal with it' look, before meeting Kitamoto's gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“You know Hatori-chan, the girl my family took in a few days ago?”

He nods because of course he remembers. It was only yesterday that Kitamoto had shown him the picture of the blurred youkai blocking most of the girl from view.

Kitamoto takes in a breath, straightens his shoulders, and then bluntly states, “We think she’s being haunted.”

“Pardon?” Natsume frowns because that’s an awful thing for someone to have to go through. He knows what it’s like to repeatedly be haunted.

Kitamoto reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. It’s an old Blackberry that his mother had given him to keep in touch. He taps some buttons and then shows him the pictures he’d snap of certain places in his house.

To Natsume’s eyes, there are streaks of black staining the floor, too numerous to count, overlapping in an almost chaotic plaid patterning on wood. In the next picture, a futon is absolutely ruined, and there is black powder and marks all over it. The final picture is of a dented wall with a partial chain sticking out of it. “What’s that chain?”

Kitamoto looks deeply at the screen. “I can’t see it, but it probably belongs to whatever’s bothering her.”

Natsume startles and looks at his friend. _He doesn’t—oh, Kitamoto knows?_

“Don’t worry. I haven’t told anyone.” His best friend smiles. “She really reminds me of you. Jumpy, tired, too skinny. Afraid to sleep through the night.” Kitamoto’s eyes regain the look of deep concern. “I mentioned that she was passed around, but I never said why. After her father took her brother and disappeared, her mother killed herself. Ever since, terrible rumors followed Hatori-chan.”

Kitamoto turns away, the bike handles in his grip causing it to dance along. “Because horrific accidents happened around her, especially to those living with her, no one wanted her around for long.” He pauses and looks at Natsume with a bittersweet smile. “The previous family had warned my parents that it was dangerous to take her in. That it would be better to leave her to an orphanage for everyone involved. They didn’t believe the rumors at first because Hatori-chan really is only a frightened, gentle-natured child. And then illness plagued the husband and a severe accident nearly maimed their only child.”

Taking a deep breath, Kitamoto continues, “My parents were aware of the risks and brought it up with Mana and I. We thought being away from the city would help since the move helped you and Tanuma, but we didn’t count on the fact that she was being haunted. This is beyond our expertise. Dad’s bringing Tanuma’s dad over later and Mom wanted to check into exorcists.”

Heart pounding, Natsume adjusts the strap on his bag and glances at Nyanko-sensei. With a narrow stare, the fat cat jumps out of his arms and darts off. “Exorcists aren’t people to mess around with.”

“I know. I managed to convince her to hold off on them for now. It’s not like we can tell if they’re a fraud or not, right?” Kitamoto’s grin holds plenty of self-deprecation.

Natsume thinks of the business card in his pouch. “I... know someone who may be able to help and is discreet in that kind of thing. If the problem doesn’t clear by itself, I mean.”

“Oh, good. Do you have any contact info? I thought my mom was going to pull out her hair when I said it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Digging through the pouch, Natsume grasps the card and passes it to Kitamoto. “Exorcism doesn’t pay well so he’s… better known in another field. I do completely vouch for his authenticity. He’s helped me out many times.”

“Natori… Shuuichi?” Kitamoto gasps, flicking the card over to check the back but it's blank. “This isn’t THE Natori Shuuichi, the actor? What. How?”

“Shh,” Natsume glances both ways, raising his hands to calm his friend down. “Keep it down. That’s a direct line to his mobile phone, so don’t spread it around, please?”

With a sharp nod, Kitamoto puts it into his wallet and places that back into his bag. “Of course not.”

“Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“Ah. I’d like you to meet her. She’s clammed up even more ever since the attack… I thought you might be able to help? If you’re willing to.” Kitamoto looks guilty for asking but he doesn't look away long.

Natsume hesitates. He didn’t know if he would be able to do anything for her, but it was worth a shot, wasn’t it? “Okay. I’ll come by your house after school, if that’s alright?”

“Thank you, Natsume!” Kitamoto bows, which only embarrasses Natsume.

“Kitamoto—you don’t—” Natsume abruptly jerks back as Kitamoto straightens.

“I mean it. Thank you. We’ve been so worried about her.”

The blond doesn’t know what to say, which means his right hand grips the strap of his bag for lack of words. His chest hurts a little, and he isn’t sure why. Maybe because he’s not used to someone trusting his judgment? “If I’m heading over right after school, I have to grab something first.”

“Okay, I’ll wait here.”

Natsume runs across the yard to the front door, kicking off his shoes. Touko and Shigeru are startled from their breakfast when he rushes in with socked feet. “Sorry I forgot something!”

He hurries upstairs, mindful of the time, and picks up the on-the-go calligraphy set and small bag of purified paper Natori had given him. In case Natsume would need to set up a barrier or make paper charms. The barrier he had placed seems to work alright for the Fujiwaras’ bedroom and study. Youkai may run the hallways and ransack Natsume’s room if they were powerful enough, but they had yet to enter those rooms.

With a yelled, “I’m off!” he quickly toes on his shoes and runs out. Kitamoto is still waiting for him. Natsume grabs his bike, because it is getting rather late, and joins his friend on the path to school.

It’s as they’re biking through a forested area that Natsume wonders why he ever worried about Kitamoto finding out what he could see. Because now it seems so obvious that it's not something the level-headed Kitamoto would shun and ridicule him for.

“Y’know,” Kitamoto’s voice breaks the silence, “I may feel out of depth with this, but my parents really aren't handling it well. They didn’t want to send Hatori-chan to school today, but she insisted.”

Looking unobtrusively around to see if anyone was near, Natsume makes a noise of sympathy. “Staying home probably would have been worse, if she was attacked once,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Do you…?” Kitamoto stills, and Natsume keeps pedaling for a few more seconds until realizing that Kitamoto had stopped. He abruptly drops both of his feet to the ground and looks back.

His best friend’s eyes look panicked and worried as if he’s recalling the many instances where he witnessed the blond in danger or where he was running at top speed like he was being chased as well as other innocuous moments that seemed like he was flinging his arms at thin air. Though there was that time Kitamoto walked in on a youkai lifting him up in search of its missing bell… but when Kitamoto hadn’t said anything Natsume thought he must have missed that moment.  

A little disturbed at the thought of how many people may have not missed such moments at all, Natsume looks back without offering to finish that question. He wonders about Shigeru and the would-be house-stealer and the mess of blown-out windows and shouji paper doors. He can’t think of any particular instances with Touko, but he’s sure he must have had one or two.

“If it’s happened so much that you’re used to it, no wonder you can act calm.” Kitamoto scratches the back of his head. “Geez. Is this why Tanuma and Taki get so stressed about you when you freeze or run off?”

“…Yeah,” Natsume mumbles, fidgeting with the strap of his bag again.

Kitamoto shakes his head and pushes his bike forward again with a tut. “What’re we going to do with you?”

They continue on and are nearly to school when Nishimura cries out “At-chan!” and proceeds to barrel into their best friend, who just barely manages to stay standing after throwing a foot down to brace himself. _How many times has that happened?_ Natsume wonders.

“What’re you doing biking with Natsume without me? Did you have a sleepover over at the Fujiwaras and NOT invite me?! Oh, how cruel!” Nishimura rocks on his feet and pulls Kitamoto into a lulling sway. For his part, Kitamoto barely rolls his eyes as if it's par the course for Nishimura's melodramatic antics.

“That’s actually a good idea. We’ve never done a sleepover before and I know your house is too small and my tiny room is out.” With Nishimura hanging off of him, Kitamoto grins at Natsume. “You’ve never had a sleepover yet, right?”

The blond’s expression looks partially annoyed by the sudden turn of conversation. Who invites themselves over to someone’s house? “I uh…”

Nishimura happily drags Kitamoto under one arm and, once he’s in range, wraps his other around Natsume’s neck. The strangled two manage not to have their bikes tangled in the process. “YEAH. SLUMBER PARTY!”

Natsume protests, “That’s—”

Without a thought for his interruption, Nishimura loudly proclaims, “Hey, I’ll bring the entertainment and At-chan can bring the drinks and some snacks!!”

For the hundredth time, Natsume thinks that he should really learn to say no to his friends. While he knows that’s a hopeless cause, he finds he doesn’t mind at all. His friends are far too precious to him, and for that reason he spoils them.

In the back of his mind, Nyanko-sensei’s voice is calling him a soft idiot and a sucker. Natsume chuckles at the thought, leaving his two best friends confused, but happy, at the rise in good spirits.


	3. Incongruous Banquet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: Kamidana (神棚 kami-dana, lit. "god-shelf") are miniature household altars provided to enshrine a Shinto kami. They are most commonly found in Japan, the home of kami worship.

“Okay. What’s going on with Kitamoto?” Taki asks suddenly as soon as they settle to eat lunch in a secluded area near the school wall under a tree.

Natsume gives a cursory shrug.

“My dad said he was going to their apartment,” Tanuma supplies. “Said his parents thought they were being haunted. It’s the first I heard of it.” He glances towards Natsume who tries not to show any sign of knowing what he was talking about.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t explain how he’s suddenly…” She struggles for words. “He seems off. You sure you haven’t noticed anything, Natsume? He isn’t possessed?”

He shakes his head in the negative. “He stopped by my house this morning,” he states casually.

His two friends startle. Taki, the first to recover, queries, “What did he want?”

Swallowing another piece of the delicious stewed veggies, Natsume hedges a bit, “He wanted me to help.”

Taki and Tanuma exchange a glance. A somewhat impatient Tanuma nudges him lightly with a foot. “What did you say?”

Natsume takes a deep breath. “I said I would after school today.” Then as an afterthought he blurts out, “He knows about...”

“Oh! That explains it then. I guess he used to be jealous before and a bit suspicious when you and I became friends so quickly and now he’s not and that’s why our interaction felt off today,” Taki offers and then smiles brightly. “I’m really glad that we don’t have to sneak around him anymore.”

Tanuma nods. “Yeah.”

A quiet peace falls over them then, and Natsume stares up at the clear sky, listening to the birds nearby and a couple of youkai squabbling over a perch in a bush. He takes a large swig of water from his bottle.

“I wonder how long he’s been aware.” Taki muses, “Do you think Nishimura knows too?”

Coughing at the sudden question, Natsume sends a panicked look at her. Tanuma gives him a calm look and pats a shoulder comfortingly before returning to his meal.

She taps a finger against her cheek. “I mean, I was kind of researching a bit into the two of them since I was worried about fallout later on. I heard that he was stricken with a very bad illness when he was 6 or 7.”

Tanuma raises his head up after he packed his empty bento and set it aside. “You think it was youkai-related? Because if so, that sort of thing would leave him open to possession and other problems later on.”

Taki frowns thoughtfully. “Well, ever since around that time, the mayor’s had a very cushy relationship with an exorcist clan. So…”

“What does the mayor have anything to do with this?” Natsume says with a frown, instantly remembering how Matoba mentioned visiting a local politician that one time. But surely, this was a simple coincidence?

Taki and Tanuma seem a bit taken aback, but without prompting Tanuma says, “Nishimura’s the second son of the mayor.”

“…” Natsume runs a hand over his face. He hadn’t realized that the sixty-something-year-old man was in fact his classmate’s dad. He breathes in and then lets it all out in a whoosh. “Well, Kitamoto said he wouldn’t say anything to anyone.”

“But would he have to if Nishimura already knew?” Taki points out insistently.

Tanuma continues, “And would it be terrible if he did?”

Natsume’s shoulders tense up at the thought. They know very well the reason he tried to keep the two worlds he lived in separate from one another, having experienced the consequences of nasty youkai themselves. “I don’t want to draw any more people I care about into youkai business.”

“If what Taki deduced is right, then Nishimura was drawn in a long time ago,” came the melancholy-laced rebuttal. It was the first time that Tanuma actually responded to him, and he made far too much sense.

Shoulders slumping down in defeat, Natsume doesn’t argue. As active as the youkai in this town were, he doesn’t doubt something like that happening before. After all, Nishimura had been possessed not long after Natsume had transferred to his school, and if he was susceptible to it... He wonders how many times Nishimura had been possessed before. Then the thought of Matoba anywhere near his friend makes his stomach churn, and he forces himself to stop thinking about that before he made himself sick.

Tanuma’s hand goes to his shoulder again. “But, if it’s true, then you don’t have to hide from them anymore.”

Heat rushes to Natsume’s face, and he feels embarrassed that he’s so relieved at the thought. He hated lying to his best friends, always has when they really seem to like him. While he felt close to Taki and Tanuma and they were good friends, their friendship had happened through the circumstance of youkai rather than the more organic one he shared with Nishimura and Kitamoto.

“Yeah,” he mumbles out, and Tanuma’s hand pats his shoulder again before retreating.

“Are you finishing that?” Taki asks with a mischievous grin.

Natsume quickly scoops up his chopsticks to finish his lunch as the other two talk about more banal, everyday things like the written reports due soon and finals coming up in three weeks, and what they were doing for summer break.

It’s unusually quiet around school without the crowds of youkai around. Usually that would worry him, but if it was simply a divine being then there’s nothing to be concerned about. He relaxes under the shade of the tree as he lets the sounds of summer pass over him.

* * *

After school, Natsume meets up with Kitamoto who was kept entertained by Nishimura’s cute girl-ranting. This time it sounds like he met another girl from a town over who’s likely out of his league once again, despite his optimism.

The blond worries that Nishimura will want to tag along, but when they’re finished unlocking their bikes he doesn’t seem bothered. In fact, he grins and flashes a thumbs’ up at them. “Have fun you two! I expect only the best things from you!” Schoolbag in hand, he jogs off, catching up to Tanuma and Taki, and greets them loudly. He claps Tanuma on the back and launches into a long spiel about the cute girl from one town over. Taki’s expression is flat and a bit irritated for some reason, but for once Nishimura isn’t sloppily intruding into her space. Tanuma seems a lot more relaxed around Nishimura, too.

Natsume puzzles at Nishimura’s nonchalance over being abandoned by Kitamoto and non-reaction to Taki’s presence until Kitamoto grins sheepishly. “Nishimura thinks we’re planning something for his birthday. Nothing can get him down after that.”

“Oh! Uh.” It didn’t explain his reaction to Taki? But it was none of Natsume’s business anyway.

“I’ve got something lined up to give him, but you should bring a present too.”

A small blush appears on Natsume’s face. “Oh, I didn’t know. I’m bad at remembering dates like that.”

“It’s okay.” Kitamoto was about to get his bike moving, before he stopped with a frown. “Did you tell the Fujiwaras where you’d be?”

“Uh... I was in a rush this morning that I didn’t.” Natsume takes the offered Blackberry and dials his home number, waiting for Touko-san to pick up. She answers with a pleasant, “Fujiwara residence.”

“Ah, Touko-san, I’ll be over at Kitamoto’s place today. I should still be home in time for dinner.”

“Oh, having a short study session? I’m glad you’re starting early.”

“Something like that, yeah.” It wouldn't be a lie if they really did have a sleepover later that week, right? Natsume knows he needs to ask Touko-san for permission first.

“Well, if you stay too late, please let us know. You know how we worry about you.” 

Natsume smiles. He really didn't want them to worry more than that. “Yeah, I’ll call if it takes too long. See you then.”

“Take care, Takashi-kun. Bye.”

With a happy smile, he hangs up and hands the mobile phone back to Kitamoto, who’s looking at him with a thoughtful look.

“What?”

After a subtle glance around, he finally asks, “…Do the Fujiwaras know?”

“…I haven’t told them anything. I don’t want them to worry.” Natsume looks away with the sting of guilt every time he chooses to deflect or pretend that nothing happened around the Fujiwaras. He’s scared that the stress of knowing what he had to go through every week would not only age them faster but ultimately kill them.

Kitamoto’s expression changes, softening into quiet dismay, but he doesn’t say anything more. They get on their bikes and pedal up the road, passing Nishimura, Tanuma, and Taki after about ten minutes. Nishimura in particular momentarily tries to jog to keep up before yelling at them to be careful. Kitamoto laughs and yells back, “Yes, Mom!” Natsume can’t help the quiet laugh that bubbles out of him at the two of them and waves at his other friends as he passes. 

Raising opposite hands to wave back, Taki and Tanuma are standing so close to one another that their elbows almost brush each other’s arm. Nishimura shoots a knowing grin at their backs. Natsume blinks a bit, but quickly faces forward so he doesn’t run his bike into anything.

What’s more disorienting is that there’s far more youkai on the road than usual, far more than he’d seen in a day or so. From his experience, it’s strange for a free-roaming divine being to stay inside the bounds of a human settlement, so why are the youkai venturing into town so solemnly as if on a pilgrimage?

“What is it?” Kitamoto queries politely slowing down to pace him so they ride down the road together. When Natsume glances at him, his best friend shrugs. “You’re frowning.”

“I’m not used to seeing so many of them when there’s no festival. There might be a divine being around, but I don’t know for sure, and it’s really weird that they’re heading into town instead of the nearby forest.”

“Huh,” his friend says.

At their slower pace, they greet multiple people who call out Kitamoto’s name.  His family has lived around here for over twenty years, ever since the river was dammed and flooded Futaba Village, so Natsume isn’t surprised to see how well the Kitamotos are enmeshed with the community. He learns that his mother works at a big telemarketing company in the closest city hours away, while his father works for a publishing firm in town.

It’s through these random encounters, that Natsume catches on that Kitamoto’s father has been ill for some months, and that he’s only somewhat better this year than he had been when it first struck. Natsume glances curiously at his friend but doesn’t pry. It was the first he had heard of it.

About ten minutes later on the opposite side of town adjacent to Yatsuhara forest, Natsume hears a youkai banquet in full swing. But it’s not in the forest as the high schooler comes to find out when he and Kitamoto go around a bend in the road and pass the screen of trees. To Natsume’s eyes, there’s a great many youkai from the Yatsuhara forest hanging around, and this must be the final destination of the traveling youkai’s pilgrimage because more are coming down the road. The crowd is so obnoxiously big and completely surrounds the property that Natsume stops at the edge so he can get down and push the bike past them. Unfortunately, Kitamoto barrels through without a care—that is, until a powerful enough youkai knocks him down. Kitamoto lets out a yelp and a loud curse as his bike seemingly flies onto its side with him still on it, even as Natsume abandons his bike and runs after him.

“Hey, leave him alone!” Natsume yells, shoving through. “Kitamoto, are you okay?”

“Yeah, ow.” His best friend looks dazed, but otherwise unhurt, taking the proffered hand to stand up. “What hit me?”

“I should’ve warned you about the crowd.” Natsume raises a disarming hand at the still-irate youkai hovering over Kitamoto. “Sorry, sorry. He didn’t mean anything by it. Want a mochi? I still have one left.”

The dark brunet stares as Natsume digs through his bag and pulls out the wrapped dessert passing it over, where it probably disappears in front of Kitamoto’s eyes.

Natsume bows slightly and apologizes again and then waves for Kitamoto to follow. “C’mon. It’ll be easier to move around once you put the bike away.”

“What about yours? It’ll get hit if you leave it out in the middle of the parking lot like that,” Kitamoto argues.

“It’s too crowded to bother getting right now.” Moving in front of his stunned friend, Natsume calls out, “Excuse us. We’re trying to get to his apartment. Thanks.” Luckily, the youkai listen and part for him without needing more extreme measures.

There was way too much drinking and general carrying on as if youkai weren’t hanging out at an aging human apartment complex. Talk about dissonant scenery. Natsume could feel a headache threatening. What were they all doing here? Thankfully, they make it to the bike rack unmolested.

The deep breath of air Natsume exhales is abruptly abbreviated when he sees the arrangement of offerings in front of the apartment with a Kitamoto nameplate. Blinking in confusion and unease, Natsume crouches by the door and stares at the full, little saucers lined up on a long tray in front of the door as if the apartment was a kamidana. What in the world?

His confusion must have registered with his friend because Kitamoto gives him a long look with a tension set in his shoulders. “Is it bad?”

“No. There’s offerings. Can you see any of them?”

“Uh… cucumbers, eggplants, fresh greens, and daikon? And a pot of flowers. Wow, this is really nice. What’s going on?”

Natsume raises a hand to forestall any worried fussing from Kitamoto. “This isn’t a bad sign—none of this is harmful even if it’s out of season.” Very carefully and feeling a little sacrilegious, Natsume picks up the tray of offerings and sets them out of the way, alongside the wall next to the vegetables. “They sometimes leave stuff by my house in thanks now and then.”

“Why are they doing that for my family? Actually,” Kitamoto chuckles a bit nervously with a hand in his short hair, “You said there was a crowd?”

“Most of them are… friends of mine from the forest.” Natsume drops his face into his hands. “I’m sorry. I have no idea what they’re doing here, since they hate being around humans. I only see this kind of reaction with divine beings, like mountain kami.”

“Oh.” Kitamoto stands there awkwardly. “…Do you think it has to do with Hatori-chan?”

That gives Natsume great pause and he straightens, dropping his hands. “…I don’t know? Give me a minute.” He scans the crowd and easily picks out the Kappa from the river.

The Kappa is gleefully crowing that he was one of the first to meet ‘the Beggey’. And how kind she is and how her eyes are like deepest green of fresh spring grass.

Natsume moves further into the banquet ignoring the cries of “Natsume-sama!” from the Dogs’ Circle with a dismissive wave. His eyes catch sight of a pensive Hinoe who’s crouched on top of someone’s car next to—“Nyanko-sensei!! You’re drunk!”

Laying in repose on a plump pillow on top of said car, the cat hiccups, “Natsumeeeh.” He waves a paw. “The girl’s inside. She spooks too easily so I haven’t been able to get close.” He drains the sake cup. “More, more!” he bosses a flinching, fearful youkai that is perched on the trunk and who pours more sake for him.

“Is she the one that everyone is making offerings to?”

“Of course! It’d be foolish to do otherwise,” Nyanko-sensei drains another cup. “More!”

There is a sharp intake of breath. Natsume turns to see Kitamoto openly staring at Nyanko-sensei with a slack jaw. “…”

Natsume smiles in reflex. “Nyanko-sensei was sealed in a lucky cat statue for so long that he fused with it. It’s why you can see him.”

“He’s a youkai.” Kitamoto tosses a hand up, eye darting at the sake cup clutched in Nyanko-sensei’s paw and the fat cat’s face. “Of course, you can’t have a normal cat. Who am I kidding?” His other hand is nervously running through his hair.

“I am NOT a cat!” Nyanko-sensei slurs. “A noble being, such as I, am so much more! Such as the fact I’m this ungrateful boy’s bodyguard. I can’t leave him alone. He gets into so much trouble. So. Much. Trouble!!” He bangs a paw on the car as he pronounces this. “You owe me manjuu, Natsume! Nanatsujiya manjuu! That girl child screamed at me! Called me a monster and dove into a closet!!”

“What? Why didn’t you say so sooner?!” Kitamoto immediately spins in place and dashes to his apartment, unknowingly upending many a sake bottle and food platters in the process as youkai phase through him or move out of the way. He trips twice, but he manages to get through the crowd without knocking into another powerful youkai.

A worried Natsume’s about to follow him when Hinoe says with a flat tone, “That girl is special. Be careful with her. She’s a rarity among humans and far more ephemeral.” She takes a long drag from her pipe.

“A rarity among humans?” He repeats.

“She draws us in and captivates us. We want to shower her with gifts and attention, but she’s unusual in that she has the Sight as well so she can easily refuse us, our gifts.” She clenches her teeth on the pipe. “Exceedingly rare.” There’s a coldness to her eyes that unnerves Natsume. “Tread carefully. There are too many nasty bottom feeders, who would kill in her name, who would try to isolate her and hoard her presence.”

Apprehensive at the news, Natsume solemnly nods.

“One last thing: Misuzu extended his territory to this place to keep the demon away, but I’m sure there’s foolish small fry here and there who will try to take advantage of a banquet’s distraction.”

He blinks. “This is pretty far from the forest.”

Hinoe shrugs. “This place used to be part of the forest, not that long ago.”

Natsume sighs realizing he won’t get anything more. Deciding that he should check on Kitamoto and Hatori, he zigzags around the revelers to swipe up his abandoned bike before he makes it back onto the concrete beneath the overhanging second floor. He leans his bike against the wall and, after gathering up the vegetables for them, he knocks on Kitamoto’s door and waits for the ‘Come in!’ before entering. As soon as the door swings open, the smell of rot and mildew assails his nose. He covers the bottom half of his face with a free hand and furrows his eyebrows in concern. The patch job on the wall looks good except for the blackened chain smoking slightly. The floor looks awful. The entire place _reeks_. It is much, much worse than the digital photo suggested. He sets down the vegetables on the kitchen counter. “Kitamoto?”

“In here!”

Making his way gingerly down the hall, he belatedly wonders if this would bother Hatori as much as him. He lightly knocks on the slightly ajar door. “Hello?”

Looking in, he sees Kitamoto kneeling by the sliding door to the closet. The girl is nowhere in sight. “Hatori-chan, this is Natsume. He’s the friend I was talking about who can see just like you.”

Natsume walks in, shutting the door, and crouches next to Kitamoto, leery of the black sooty substance coating the floor and part of the wall.

The closet door is partially open and the shadows in it seem to swallow everything but the slight form of a girl. There’s a strange glow around her, and he rubs his eyes once before realizing that yes, she’s glowing, if slightly. Had he not known any better, he would have thought she was a kami.

One green eye is glinting in the bedroom light and strands of scarlet hair fall against the closet door. Despite the fact that the miasma from the demon attack is worse here, he drops his hand from his mouth and nose to smile gently at her. “Hi, Hatori. My name’s Natsume—”

She ducks back behind the hanging door. “Are you Summer Eye?” She whispers hesitantly, muffled by the door.

Kitamoto’s face lights up but he doesn’t say anything. He nods encouragingly at Natsume to continue.

He chuckles, “Yeah, that’s how you read the kanji. Did you hear about me from one of my friends?”

“It was a bald green person with a turtle shell,” she says quietly, her voice is slightly shaky. “Mana ran a bike into him since she couldn’t see him. But he was in the middle of the road so it wasn’t her fault…”

“Oh the Kappa,” Natsume grins, “He lives in the river, and every now and then he comes up to visit others in the forest or watch people on the road. He gets that way when he dries out,” he says with a deep sigh, shaking his head. “I use a lot of water bottles on him during the summer.”

She leans into the light a little bit, but her bangs cover her face since she’s looking down. From the look of the hand gripping the edge of the door, she’s thin. “Are you… You’re not… one of _them_?” Her head turns to take in the damage to the room and then she covers her nose and mouth as if nauseated at the sight before quickly dropping it into her lap and balling it into the skirt of her school uniform.

“I’m human. Promise.”

“You can see him?” She directs to Kitamoto, who nods sharply.

“We’re classmates at school.”

If one didn’t look too hard, the glow wasn’t that noticeable. The way she turns her downturned head is reminiscent of youkai, creepy and ghoulish in all the wrong ways. “You… can see _them_?”

“Yeah. And I have a friend who can sort of see them as long as he’s wearing plain glasses,” Natsume mimes a pair on his face, “and another who can see shadows and reflections if it’s a bright day or the youkai are strong enough.”

Kitamoto can’t seem to help fixing curious looks towards Natsume at his admissions but remains silent.

A long hush hangs over them, save for the loud revelry outside muffled by the walls. Hatori does nothing to help ease the sudden awkwardness and tension, apparently quite used to it. Kitamoto looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t know where to start.

Natsume decides to rummage through his bag for the pouch of homemade snacks Touko-san had given him that morning before he first saw Kitamoto. He sets it in front of the closet. “My foster mother made some cookies for me today. You can have some since there’s still plenty left.”

“Nishimura’s going to be sad you didn’t share any,” Kitamoto teases.

“He would have eaten them all. He has the worst impulse control.”

Kitamoto chuckles. “You’d be surprised.”

Their light banter and the offer for food seems to do the trick. She’s inching out enough to extend an arm to the pouch. The girl with shocking red hair looks much thinner than first glance, like she’s missed far too many meals. Once she’s grasped it, she finally glances up at Natsume properly, before ducking down again with a muttered 'thanks'. There are deep gray bags under her eyes and a perpetual pinched sense to her from the stress of constantly being hounded. Natsume’s breath catches in sympathy. Is this how he looked to the Fujiwaras? No wonder they couldn’t possibly ignore him. He certainly can't.

She looks at Kitamoto and then back to Natsume and back again and then hangs her head as she brings the pouch into her lap. “You… you believe, even if you can’t see?”

Kitamoto beams happily. “Yup! People call me superstitious but too many things around here don’t add up, y’know? Also, I just got knocked down outside for no reason. It’s hard to blame the wind on that, especially when someone starts apologizing to the general area it came from. Plus, talking not-a-cats.”

“Not-a-cats,” she says hesitantly. “There was a creepy not-a-cat in here when I got home. It was pretending to be a cat… But it was huge with a mouth that could eat you in one bite.” Opening the pouch, Hatori inspects it thoroughly as if expecting something to be crawling on it and then picks a cookie.

Natsume held a hand up to signal to Kitamoto not to worry. The other high schooler was slack-jawed. “Sorry if he scared you. That was Nyanko-sensei,” Natsume says with an apologetic smile. “I sent him over here when Kitamoto said you were being haunted. Most people can't see his true form.”

That gives her slight pause, but she takes a delicate bite of the cookie anyway. A soft gasp escapes her lips. “So good!”  Kitamoto doesn’t scold her even as she frantically scarfs down the cookies. Somehow the crumbs stay within the cloth, though some remain stuck to her face until she wipes it off. Her left hand crumples the cloth as she covers her face with the other. “I’m sorry. I ate them all…”

“It’s okay. I totally understand since it’s so tasty,” Kitamoto says easily. “Fujiwara-san, that’s Natsume’s foster mom, is constantly making food to try to thicken this thin guy up.” Kitamoto nudges him with an elbow. “He looks less like a ghost now, so it’s working.”

“Mm.” Green eyes stay trained on the ground, half-open. She’s listing a little to the left, and Natsume suddenly asks, “Hatori, have you been able to sleep since the attack?”

She jerks her head up and then guiltily wrings her hands. There’s a long pause. “N-no. It… It feels bad here…” She admits quietly like she’s insulting Kitamoto. “sorry.”

“Oh, Hatori-chan,” Kitamoto says unhappily. “We didn’t know. We can find some place you feel more comfortable to sleep for now?”

Hatori lunges forward, gripping Kitamoto’s shirt sleeve. “N-no! I don’t—please don’t send me away. Please.”

“Wha—Hatori-chan, it’s okay! We’re not—”

“Please keep me here! Please.” Tears are pouring down her face as her form shakes, and Kitamoto is so stunned at the raw emotion that he freezes, unsure how to respond. Natsume’s heart clenches at the desperation on her face, but gets a chill down his back. In the corner of the room, a shadowy youkai is hanging. His eyes widen in fear.

“ _Do I need to eat the ones who’ve upset the Beggey_?” Its voice is like gravel being shaken in a glass jar.

Gasping once, Hatori stiffens and slowly pulls away from Kitamoto. After wiping her face, she stands shakily, head down, but facing the corner. “Don’t hurt these people. They didn’t do anything wrong.”

Kitamoto’s eyes are darting back and forth from her to the corner, his mouth a flat line.

The shadow sighs and swings in place. “ _They haven’t? But he made you cry. That cannot be forgiven.”_

“Leave.” She clenches her fists and steps closer to it. “Leave this place!!”

“ _I’ll curse him!!_ ” The shadow screams.

Hatori leaps in front of Kitamoto. “NO! Don’t touch him!!”

“Sensei!” Natsume yells as loud as he can.

“ _How dare he!”_ Avoiding touching her, the slimy shadow crawls onto the ceiling, oozing great gobs of steaming black all over. Almost retching at the smell, Natsume stands and wishes he had a circle and a sealing pot ready for this kind of awful youkai. “SENSEI!!” He screams again.

“Get up, get up!” Hatori’s weedy voice begs behind him. Her hands shaking, she half-turns to pull on Kitamoto until he gets to his feet. She roughly shoves him. “Run, run, run!” She chants following, as she looks terrified over her shoulder. “Natsume-san! RUN!!”

Just then, Nyanko-sensei barrels over them, causing Kitamoto to yelp and fall onto the hallway floor. In a cloud of smoke, Madara’s large form absolutely fills the room, smothering Natsume under his weight and pushing Hatori out the doorway. A bright light fills the room and there’s an ear-splitting screech like metal collapsing under the weight of moving boulders, and the heavy presence is gone.

Natsume is busy extracting himself from under the mammoth white creature, when Hatori falls to her knees, trembling. She curls her fingers in the hair of her bowed head. “they keep coming,” she mutters tiredly. Her frightened eyes dart up at Madara and she swallows thickly. “hi, not-a-cat,” she manages tremulously. She draws her knees up tightly and places her head on them, making herself very small. She goes completely quiet and still.

Kitamoto places a careful hand on her head. “This place needs to be purified. It’ll keep bringing in bad spirits otherwise.” He kneels next to her. “Fortunately, Dad’s bringing a priest in to do just that. I don’t know how long it’ll take though. He’ll probably ward the place too.”

She looks up worriedly through her bangs and then back down. Kitamoto’s eyes are deeply disturbed by what happened more for Hatori’s sake than his own. She doesn’t look like she knows how to react.

Natsume takes a deep breath and sits down on the grimy hallway floor next to her as Nyanko-sensei switches back to his compact form and climbs onto his shoulder. “This is Nyanko-sensei, my bodyguard.”

“That’s exactly right,” Madara drawls, still obviously drunk. “I’m not interested in eating a waif-like human like you. Besides, you’d give me indigestion with all that magic you produce.”

“Sensei, that’s not reassuring.”

The furry statue huffs. “I prefer my meals spiritually powerful, but less magical, like you, Na-tsu-me—!”

Natsume punches him before he can go on longer. “No one’s eating anyone, Sensei.”

“Ungrateful brat!”

Ignoring the raging youkai in his arms, Natsume smiles at her. Even with her arms hugging her legs and half her face buried into her knees, she looks less terrified of Nyanko-sensei now and simply exhausted. “I’m sure it would be okay if you stayed over at my place. The Fujiwaras have plenty of room, so you’d be able to sleep in a room by yourself.” Natsume looks to the gobsmacked Kitamoto, “If you think your parents would allow it?”

“They’d be crazy not to,” Kitamoto admits and finally pulls his hand from where it’d been stroking Hatori’s hair. “But only if Hatori-chan wants to go there until this place is purified.”

A green eye flits to Kitamoto’s face, and then she nods firmly, closing her eyes.

“Okay then. I’ll have to call—”

A door slams shut, startling the three of them—but not Nyanko-sensei—and keys jingle. “I’m home!” Kitamoto’s sister calls out. “Why are all the lights off? Are we living like moles??” The light of the kitchen floods the hall. “Whoa, where’d all these fresh veggies come from? Huh. Bro? I’m surprised Dad’s not home early—” She walks around and sees them huddled on the ground in the cramped hallway. “—oh my gosh, are you okay, Chi-chan?!” Without a word to her brother’s classmate, Mana drops what she was carrying onto the counter and rushes over to Hatori who shrinks in on herself further. “Bro, what—”

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault,” Hatori says with shaking shoulders. “I’m sorry. Because I… because I see, they… they keep coming and they cause trouble for people who take me in.”

Kitamoto’s sister gives her a sad smile and reaches out to grip her shoulders. “It isn’t your fault. Some people are born differently, and that’s okay.”

Fat tears silently leak from Hatori’s bruised eyes, but she remains seated on the wooden floor. She ducks her head down as her hands curl tightly into her skirt.

“And you aren’t alone anymore.” Kitamoto comforts her with a splayed hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles as his sister sits next to her to give her a hug.

Natsume feels awkward, a heavy feeling remaining in his chest at the sight of the Kitamoto siblings trying their best to ease Hatori’s distress.

He glances at Nyanko-sensei and stands. Right. He had a phone call to make.


	4. A Different View

Other than the line of respectful youkai sending them off, the ride home is unremarkable. Natsume is again surprised by how fast news had spread among the youkai, and they are hidden all along the path to his house lurking wherever there were shadows or hiding places to be had. He greets any townspeople he came across, whose eyes would flicker curiously towards Hatori, but they never ask and he never offers her name.

After one disastrous spill from her bike, Natsume keeps a closer eye on the younger girl. He hadn’t realized and she hadn’t mentioned that she was new to bike riding, which is only now evident when he sees how much she wobbles. He tries not to feel bad for not noticing when he was following her at the start of their ride since he was extremely distracted by the youkai’s weird behavior.

At last they arrive at the Fujiwaras’ house: home. A home that makes Natsume’s heart flutter with anxiety by how fragile its existence seemed to be. He asks her not to tell his foster parents about his ability to see. Her eyes grow sharp and piercing, and he felt whittled down to nothing, feeling small in her gaze. Then her face softens, and even though she never looks away despite her intense line of questioning Natsume senses that he’s won her over for now. She clutches at his sleeve as if she’s afraid he’ll drift away despite her reassurance.

A shrill caw followed by another breaks the overbearing silence. Natsume glances up to see the pair of crows, a picture in contrast, fly over their heads to land on the nearest tree. Touko comes barreling out making a beeline to the drying clothes, and soon Natsume is ordered into action.

Finally, as the very heavens seem to open and drench their town Natsume has set the last bundle of clean laundry down, when he hears Touko cry out, “Hatori-chan! Hurry, hurry!!” He rushes over to a fretful Touko standing under the overhang. “Hatori-chan!” She looks very worried and glances at him in askance.

His eyes taking stock of the gray-hued air, completely saturated with rain, he picks Hatori out by the bright red blur of her hair and the brightening blue glow emanating from her. As if oblivious to the cold, hard rain, Hatori is staring at the tree holding the two crows acting completely lost in thought.

An anxiously murmured ‘Takashi-kun’ spurs Natsume into action. There’s a bright blue-purple flash, and lightning spiders out across the sky. Within a second, thunder booms vibrating the very foundation of the house. He grabs an umbrella and opens it, splashing heavily through the muddy puddles the short distance to her. Once the umbrella is over her, Hatori looks up at him with amazement awashing her features. Water has matted her hair down, and he stomps the urge to take her by the hand to lead her into the warmth of the house. He tells her about the crows, thinking that’s why she’s frozen in place.

There’s another crack-boom and then she asks if regular people only see and hear crows. Regular people…? They really need cover, so he smiles, and in that moment he realizes that Touko that day had never mentioned the white one. In fact, he remembers telling her about the white one, pointing it out as they both took off, and her confused ‘Where?’ followed by her relieved smile about her friend not being alone. He hadn’t noticed at the time of course since his foster mother hadn’t needled him about what she couldn’t see. Those birds were youkai, and he never even noticed. Dread curls in his chest. He turns towards the house, keeping the large umbrella over the both of them, and she follows.

Once inside the entryway, he toes off his muddy shoes and closes the umbrella setting it back into the rack.

“Takashi-kun!” An admonishing Touko reaches out to press a hand to his forehead. “You should have taken two umbrellas. Now you’re wet too.”

“I should be okay. It’ll dry off soon. I wasn’t the one who stood in that onslaught for several minutes.” He slightly shifts to the side as Touko’s sharp attention is successfully deflected onto Hatori. He watches his foster mom deftly wrap her small shoulders in towels and fuss over the stiffly held form, taking the sodden duffle bag with practiced ease. Hatori for her part looks vulnerable and confused as her fingers clings to the towel around her, staring up at Touko attentively. There’s a puddle of water underneath her pale, bare feet, her brown-stained socks and mud-encrusted shoes a foot away.

Natsume is firmly ordered to bring Hatori upstairs to the room Touko had specified over the phone. The redhead shyly looks down when Touko reassures her that everything is alright.  The younger two slip on the awaiting slippers. “This way Hatori-chan,” Natsume says gently. After his foster mother’s fussing, she seems delicate in a way she wasn’t before, like a hanging icicle, still cold and sharp, but so easily broken by a strong warm wind.

He makes his way up the stairs to his room, honestly surprised he hadn’t seen Nyanko-sensei after the fat cat’s drunken binge on top of that car. He can’t help the suspicion at his absence.

Once they’re in the room, she’s drawn to the window even though there’s nothing to look at in this downpour. He opens his messenger bag and pulls out several warding ofuda he had made a week ago. When he saw the awful state of Kitamoto’s apartment, he had opted not to place them. He would have tried to purify their rooms himself, except that they had already called Tanuma’s dad to do exactly that.

This room, however, needed no such thing, and so was perfectly fine to ward. Setting his bag down, he murmurs, “The four directions point me to light, cut the dim corners.” The sheaves of paper activate and he sticks them to each of the walls and above the door. “Come, stay, shelter us.” He steps back and slaps his palms together in a clap. “And let no shadows who harbor evil and misfortune into this space!” He feels the snap of the ofuda and fiercely concentrates, willing them to form a protective cage. When it’s finally done, he feels a bit dizzy, slumping to the ground to catch his breath.

“Natsume-san?” She’s directed a plain look of concern.

“I might have overdone it. Here. Help me up.” He reaches a hand up to her, and she braces herself while grabbing on with two hands. Using her momentum, he’s able to weakly leverage himself up.

After he’s explained what he’s done for her, Hatori’s quite ecstatic. She clings to her wet towel and dances in place, tilting her head back and grinning. Her eyes are still bruised, but whatever tension she had seems to melt off of her. Her movements smooth out, spinning around. The glow from her permeates the room momentarily, alighting it with unearthly light. It feels like water has filled the room muffling all his other senses, and the noise of the rain fades away. Surprisingly he doesn’t feel suffocated as that energy blankets everything, pushing against the wards but leaving them unharmed. It winks out, and Natsume blinks out of his thrall, abashed that he was caught staring.

“Um. Do you think you could teach me?”

He starts because the idea of teaching someone skills Natori had trained him to do had never occurred to him. “Yeah, if you want.” It’s extremely draining, but maybe she wouldn’t be as affected. She certainly doesn’t seem fazed by the amount of power she gave off in her spontaneous dance.

When Touko enters the room, she sends Natsume downstairs to tend to dinner. He steps into the immaculate kitchen, hearing the dryer’s droning hum down the hall. He pulls the top off the bubbling pot, and the smell of slightly spicy curry wafts up. Touko used some of the fresh daikon and eggplant they had brought home. He stirs it and closes the pot. There’s a plastic-wrapped dish holding a leafy green salad peppered with cucumbers and grated carrots with a small bowl of homemade dressing next to it. He checks the time, knowing afterwards that Shigeru should be home within the hour.

A few moments later, Touko is downstairs, re-checking the curry. “What do you think she would like for dessert? I can whip up some rice pudding.”

“I don’t think she would want any. Kitamoto said to keep it light.”

Touko thinks for a moment and then sighs. “Well, I could pull out a bag of snacks if either of you want dessert, I suppose.”

Natsume pours himself some tea from the dispenser that Touko always has filled with fresh tea. He takes a seat at the table already set to serve four people and drinks.

“What do you suppose she saw outside that made her look so surprised?” Touko asks nonchalantly. “I couldn’t see with all that rain.”

He tries to act normal even though he can tell his pulse is elevated and his breathing wants to quicken. “I thought it was the albino crow since they’re so rare, but now I’m not sure,” he says honestly. Touko doesn’t appear to register anything out of the ordinary. Well, he was never an ordinary child, so this is nothing new right?  “She could have been spacing out.”

“In the rain?” Her tone is lightly skeptical.

Looking away, he shrugs. “It’s sometimes nice to be caught in the rain. Then again, she hasn’t been sleeping well at the Kitamotos.”

“That’s right.” She makes herself a cup of tea and another for Shigeru and also sits down. “Poor thing. Did they mention anything that helps her?”

“No. Sorry. They didn’t. But she’s only been with them a few days, so…”

“Hm.” Many seconds pass as Touko thinks to herself and Natsume is perfectly happy to let them pass in silence. “I’m a little worried about Nyangoro. He came in ahead of you and hasn’t asked for a single scrap this entire time!” Touko looks only a little fretful as she glances around the kitchen. “I’ve grown so used to him being in here when you’re home,” she whispers conspiratorially.

Natsume knows Touko can’t help how she spoils Nyanko-sensei with far too many scraps on top of his own plate of food. He grins. “Now and then, he goes and does his own thing. But I think he might be with Hatori-chan. He’s been interested in her since we met her.” Not that Natsume understands it; Hatori has given every indication that she would rather be anywhere but near his bodyguard.

“Oh. At least he keeps her company then.” Touko glances at the clock again. “Well, Shigeru will be here any moment, so why don’t you fetch Hatori-chan? I’ll have dinner ready to serve.”

“Okay.” Natsume pushes the chair back and gets up. He decides to check the large living room first before going upstairs to her room. He passes through the open shouji doors and somehow isn’t surprised to see the shocking red hair in view. Hatori was very quiet, so it makes sense that she would be able to slip by without Touko or himself noticing. “Hatori-chan, dinner time.”

She leans back enough to meet his gaze and nods. When something has caught her interest, Natsume has noticed she is nigh unreadable. He has no idea what she’s thinking about. Behind her is Nyanko-sensei who’s been scarce this whole time.

“Nyanko-sensei,” Natsume enunciates. “Touko-san has been worried about you since you haven’t been in the kitchen begging for scraps.”

The fat cat sniffs. “A noble self, such as I, does not _beg_.”

Natsume can’t help the short laugh at Nyanko-sensei because he most certainly _does_. Since Hatori stands, Natsume leads them back to the kitchen where the table sits.

Shigeru’s voice calls from the entryway, “I’m home!”

“Welcome back!” Natsume and Touko say at once. They look at each other sheepishly. Touko has covered her mouth with mirth and Natsume is smiling. Natsume and Hatori sit as Shigeru hangs up his coat and greets Touko with a quick, quiet kiss. Once they murmur a brief greeting to each other, Touko continues to place a bowl of salad at each set place on the table and a bowl of curry, while Shigeru fully turns to them loosening his tie. “Hello, Hatori-chan. I’m Fujiwara Shigeru, Touko’s husband. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Hatori says with a tiny voice, looking down at the table weighed down with food.

“How are you adjusting to our little town?”

There’s a pause, and she wriggles a bit in the chair, probably thinking of what’s okay to say. Her pale fingers dance on the edge of the table. “It’s different, but not bad,” she settles on.

Touko is shaping sizeable portions of rice into their rice bowls. She asks, “Hatori-chan, pass your bowl, please.”

Hatori looks up enough to pick the rice bowl up and hands it to Touko, who quickly fills it and passes it back. Now everyone is settled, they hold their hands together in front of their faces, waiting a second for Hatori to follow suit, and in chorus say, “Itadakimasu.”

“Takashi-kun, how are your friends?” Shigeru asks. “Has Tanuma-kun been well?”

Natsume smiles and nods. “Yeah, he hasn’t taken ill in awhile. Nishimura and Kitamoto have been full of energy, and Taki and Tanuma have been talking about going on a trip for summer break.”

“A trip?” Touko prompts.

“Yes, they were talking about going to Hasetsu in the Saga prefecture. She wanted to go ice skating.”

“Oh, that’s not too far away!” Touko says. “Is she also hoping to catch a glimpse of that teen skater?”

“Ah. Maybe?” Natsume really doesn’t know anything about ice skating.

“Well, I’m really rooting for Katsuki-kun. He’s only a few years younger than you and he made it the Junior Ice Skating Nationals last year!”

“Hasetsu’s only a three hour train ride from here,” Shigeru comments, amusement filtering through his tone, “and a couple more hours spent on a bus. I could take some time off if you want to go.”

“Ah, that would be nice, but maybe some other time.” Touko pulls back her enthusiasm to look around the table to see if she needed to refill any rice bowls. She quickly plies Natsume with more, and then Shigeru as well.

The older man takes another large bite of the curry. “This is very good, dear. Fresh eggplant?”

“Oh, Hatori-chan brought them with her. I was surprised since it’s quite expensive at the market, but it certainly tastes fresh from the garden!”

The two look to Hatori, who has barely taken two bites from the rice bowl and has left everything else untouched. With question in her eyes, she looks up at them through her bangs.

“Hatori-chan, are you feeling unwell?” Natsume asks, echoing the question he often heard from the Fujiwaras when he had no appetite. Now that he sees her hunched form, he feels guilty that they carried on without trying to draw her into the conversation more. She was so… unassertive, unassuming, and all around inconspicuous when she was trying to make herself small. And that, really bothered him on a deep level, knowing firsthand the kinds of things that made someone shrink in on themselves like that.

“I’m… I’m okay,” she says, her voice tense and wary. “Everything looks really tasty. Thank you for such a good meal, Fu—Touko-san.” And yet, besides the rice, she makes no other move to eat.

Natsume tilts his head at her and gently prods, “Are you sure? Your stomach doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“…No. I… don’t feel hungry.” She dips her head as her tone goes completely monotone, lacking any emotional breadth to it. It feels wrong. He flattens his lips in concern, eyes scanning over the food and doesn’t see anything amiss. He glances at his foster parents, whose easy conversation has fallen by the wayside as they watch them interact. “It looks really good though,” she says with that weirdly flat tone. She takes another nibble of rice, staring down at her lap.

“Mya, mya!” Nyanko-sensei interrupts.

“Oh. Uh.” She looks really flustered now. “Um.” She picks up her dish of curry and sets it on the floor. “Like this, Nyanko-sensei?”

Natsume looks over to the Fujiwaras to gauge their reaction and they seem as befuddled as he does. At least they don’t try to stop her.

A claw grabs him by the leg. “Yow—Wha. What Nyanko-sensei?!” Natsume hisses at him. Head crammed under the table, the fat cat is pantomiming a shooing motion at the two adults. ‘ _Distract them?’_ Natsume mouths at him.

“Mm-hm!”

“Takashi-kun?”

Natsume hits the back of his head on the table in surprise and straightens in his chair. “Ahaha,” he rubs the back of his head. “Ow. Sorry.” He widens his eyes after looking towards the kitchen window. “Whoa, what is that?” He shoves his chair back and rushes to the kitchen sink.

“What? What?” Touko asks, hovering behind him. Shigeru also stands, evidently curious to check it out.

Brilliant blue light flashes behind them, and then thunder happens to rumble thereafter.

“What was that?” Touko has turned, gazing back at the table. Hatori’s bowl of curry is back on the table, and she is voraciously scarfing it down like she hasn’t eaten properly in days. “Hatori-chan, slow down. You’ll give yourself a tummy ache.”

The three return to the table, all eyes affixed to the girl. Natsume tries and fails to hide his confusion at why it was necessary for Nyanko-sensei to blast her food with his purifying power. Out of the corner of his eye, his foster parents see his pensive look and exchange a thoughtful look of their own. He gives them a reassuring smile.

Now, Hatori is gulping down the water thirstily and is setting the spoon down after each bite to give her a chance to breathe. Natsume lightly chews on the inside of his cheek, mind worrying over what she so obviously had seen to set her off the meal. He would have to ask Nyanko-sensei what he had destroyed for Hatori’s sake.

An empty rice bowl is thrust towards Touko, startling the quietly watchful three. “More, please,” Hatori practically demands.

“O-of course, Hatori-chan!” Touko happily takes the bowl, filling it, and passes it back with a beaming smile.

Natsume looks to Shigeru who gives him an inquiring look himself with an upraised eyebrow. Natsume shrugs slightly and shakes his head before looking at their small guest who packs away the entire meal in front of her.

Once she is finished, Natsume helps gather the dirty dishes with Touko.

“Did you want dessert?” He can hear Shigeru ask patiently.

“No thanks,” she responds curtly.

“The meal was very good, wasn’t it?”

“Yes! Very, very good,” she says happily.

As Touko washes the dishes and Natsume dries, he can hear Shigeru take a breath as he shifts in his creaky chair. “Do you like the Kitamotos?”

“They’re nice people.”

“Oh, what makes them nice?”

“They give me new things.”

“What sort of things?’

There’s a long silence. “They gave me a bike and a new school uniform and bag and… I think they like me…?” She must have ducked her head down because the next part sounds as if she’s turned away. “They put a fan I made on the wall.”

Shigeru chuckles. “That’s good. You don’t have to keep going as I was only curious. Thanks for sharing that with me.”

Done with drying dishes, Natsume turns to step back to the table. Just as he thought, Hatori is looking down at her hands in her lap, her red hair blocking her expression.

“I’m glad to hear they treat you well,” Touko says kindly. “The Kitamotos have always been charitable family. They’ve fostered before…” Touko’s smile takes on a mischievous quality. “But you’re the first human they’ve welcomed into their home.”

Hatori looks up suddenly, her face extremely vulnerable. “they accept me,” she says with a tiny, tremulous voice. Her shoulders relax as she admits it. “no one’s… no one’s welcomed me to stay after… after…”

Natsume shoots her a frantic look, wondering if he needs to intervene on her behalf, but it turns out he doesn’t have to.

“Well, Takashi-kun and I have finished washing up,” Touko intercedes smoothly, “Do you want to play a card game with us?”

“O-okay?”

“Let’s go to the room adjacent here. I know I have the cards around here somewhere. Do you know how to play the hundred poets’ game?”

“A little. I’m not very good.”

Touko lets out a soft titter. “Oh, Shigeru’s the only one who remembers all of them. But that’s why we make him read the cards out. Or else it’s just no fun!”

“Thanks, dear,” Shigeru says dryly.

“Oh, don’t be upset,” Touko teases. “Takashi can read them first, so you can uphold your winning streak, darling.”

“Somehow I feel even more insulted,” Shigeru rebuffs with a gentle smile.

Natsume startles a little when he finally recognizes the looks between Taki and Tanuma of late and their easy closeness. It most reminds him of his foster parents’ interactions. He feels shyly elated for his friends, and yet a little lonely at the thought. He wonders if they’re dating yet, or if it’s been a secret, or if they’re only just starting to realize how they feel for themselves.

Someone pulls on the part of his shirt puffing at the waist. “Natsume-san?”

He blinks down at Hatori. “You know, you don’t have to use that suffix with me. I’m only a few years older than you.”

“Natsume-kun?”

“Yes? What is it?”

Her green eyes stare up at him. “Touko-san found the cards and wants you to do the reading for the first round.”

“Oh, right. Thanks.” Her hand drops and she turns to go back. “Hatori-chan, what was wrong with your food?”

She looks up at him hesitantly and whispers, “Some black _things_ that I once saw swallow a man whole were slobbering all over my food.” With only that, she leaves the kitchen. Natsume hears his foster mother greet Hatori brightly, and he decides that even with the sick clenching of his gut that he should probably get in there before Touko comes to fetch him herself.

It's not the first indication that she can see beyond even what he does, but to think something terrifyingly unseen to him could exist...?

He knows that he's going to have a long talk with Nyanko-sensei about this, about what a Beggey is or supposed to be and why youkai treat them so reverently. If they were simply human with an overabundance of magic, then why have a special category at all? How could she be even more ephemeral than the average human?

“Takashi-kun! Hurry up!” Touko admonishes from the other room.

With a settling breath, he heads out the kitchen and briefly through the hall. The wooden doors are open revealing the waxing moon with few clouds, now that the storm has passed. The night air is slightly humid but cool after the rain.

Taking the offered box of cards from Shigeru, he sees that they already have the cards laid out in a rectagular-like pattern and have taken three sides. 

Setting aside his worries for the present, he sits at the head and opens the box. Drawing a card, he begins a recitation of a poem that isn't part of the game, “Naniwa Bay, now the flower blooms, but for winter. Here comes spring, now the flower blooms.” 

Her arrival in a way did seem like a new beginning of sorts. Now would that herald of change be for good or ill? Whichever one it was would be something to ponder later. For now he would enjoy the time he has with the Fujiwaras and the girl much braver than he and hope that his bad luck with youkai didn't ensnare her into his troubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave a literal translation to keep it succinct.
> 
> Everything below was taken from a wikia page article on Ogura Hyakunin Isshu (Ogura Hundred Poems).
> 
> "  
> Naniwa-zu ni/Sakuya kono hana/Fuyu-gomori/Ima o haru-be to/Sakuya kono hana
> 
> 難波津に 咲くやこの花 冬ごもり いまを春べと 咲くやこの花
> 
> Alternate translation: In Naniwa Bay, now the flowers are blossoming. After lying dormant all winter, now the spring has come and the flowers are blossoming.
> 
> This poem actually has nothing to do with the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu; it is from the Kokin Wakashu, a poem anthology which was compiled about 300 years prior to Ogura. During the Heian period, it was considered the first poem that any poet should learn; hence it is now used as the opening poem in competitive karuta matches."


	5. Lifted Veil

The night of karuta playing began innocently enough. Natsume has never played this game with his foster parents before so it’s with some surprise that he watches Shigeru dominate the game. It’s about the tenth card when a smirking Hinoe appears out of the dark, startling him that he forgets the verse and drops the card. Neither Touko or Shigeru grab for its paired match despite having enough of the beginning as they look up at him with concern and then are drawn by his staring.

He immediately looks down at the dropped card, reaching for it.

What is Hinoe up to? She says she wants to play, but now? In front of his foster parents? This wasn’t— this couldn’t end well.

He shakily picks the card back up. “Sorry. I didn’t expect that deer to come out of nowhere,” he lies.

Starting the game again, he watches with awe as Hinoe’s pipe taps the correct card before he even has a chance to breathe more than half of the first syllable. Hatori can only fumble for them, often losing out to Shigeru’s nimble movement.

After what felt like a long hour, Shigeru has no cards remaining on his side and Natsume breathes out a sigh of relief. The game is over and now they can head to bed. He straightens the cards he recited and places them in the box, waiting for Shigeru to pass their cards over. He quickly stacks what he’s given and waits for the rest.

And then, ever-curious Touko asks Hatori after her skills in karuta and compliments her gameplay. Then she says, “I think there’s a club at your school if you’re interested.”

Hatori doesn’t answer Touko demurely or even attempt. Instead she stares up at Hinoe, her eyes seemingly asking her what she thought about that.

That’s when Natsume gets the really sickening swooping sensation in his gut when, after Touko blinks curiously at Hatori, she looks at Hinoe—or well, what would simply be empty space to her—with a thoughtful frown.

Blowing a small smoke ring towards an oblivious Touko, Hinoe shrugs and says “It could kill time if you’re bored.”

Shigeru is handing Natsume the remaining cards, when Hatori finally answers Touko in the negative to joining such a club. Then she looks right at Natsume and says, “It would be cheating if I played like this.”

The stack of cards feels like a deadweight in his numb fingers as time slows. His heart is racing even as he forces a totally normal expression, to breathe normally. His mind is tripping over the possibilities. He wants to scream at her to stop before it’s too late, but his lips won’t move. His hands won’t either; the cards remain in his shaking grip. Shigeru-san watches him, and Natsume forces himself to think of nothing, knowing how flat he’ll look. It’s better than panicked sounds or screaming despair wanting to claw out his constricting throat. Somehow, the moment of paralysis flees for an instant and he manages to get the cards in the box and the lid on that, standing to put them away.

“Why’s that?” His foster mother’s voice is light, but Natsume recognizes the steely knowledge behind it, her suspicions having sharpened over time. It’s his own fault really. He’s grown awful at lying. His lying is a see-through thing now. He’s been trying to ignore how bad he’s gotten because he does want to be honest with them, with the people he cares about most in this world. He doesn’t answer probing questions if he can help it, hating the look in Touko-san’s eyes when he lies about falling down and hurting himself. The lie about the deer in the backyard likely didn’t go unnoticed either, but he deliberately kept his eyes on the card.

He knows he’s a bad liar, but… he’s never been convincing in telling the truth either. He doesn’t like lying, and yet the only ones who believe don’t need persuasion. That’s why he’s caught here. Yes, he’s worried about their safety and well-being, moreso than his own, but deep down he knows that if he can’t curtail their disbelief then he’ll lose them. Just like that.

So, really, whatever happens the blame is ultimately on him for this situation. A part of him hates it. How easily Hatori-chan swept in like this. But… If she, an unknown to the Fujiwaras, takes the leap for him and fails, then Natsume knows he’ll continue lying and the Fujiwaras will keep writing everything off as coincidence because they preferred it to the alternative. There were worse things than toeing that line, even though he knows he’ll always be written off as eccentric.

Suddenly his emotions waffle again. He doesn’t want Hatori to take that chance. He likes things as they are, that sliver of hope that they would understand, but before he can utter a sound to derail the conversation Hatori straightens her back, lifting her chin. The sight stills the words remaining untwisted and unsounded in his tight throat.

Her bruised, fearful eyes are determined and she swipes her thin arm towards Hinoe, whose pipe slips from her lips in shock. “Because my friend here was the one who knew the cards.”

Natsume’s fingers are numb, and the box slips from them. Distantly, he sees Shigeru-san catch it before the fall damages the decorative box. “S-sorry. I’m sorry,” Natsume mumbles. The world is stretching out in a familiar way, one that he’s grown unaccustomed to since leaving the last foster family. A sort of static stretches over his senses. He’ll faint if he keeps this up. His ears are only attuned to Touko-san and no one else. If she rejects Hatori…

“Your _friend_ , Hatori-chan?” Each word slowly enunciated feels like a stake slicing through Natsume’s peaceful world. God, this is familiar, too familiar. He never wanted to feel like this again. _‘LIAR!! ALL YOU DO IS LIE! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!’_ ringing in his head from unsolicited memories.

“Yes. She lives in the forest with the others.”

Warm hands grasp Natsume’s arms helping him to sit on the ground. His breathing is erratic, and his eyes are unfocused, but he knows it’s his foster father. He’s too scared to look at his face and see condemnation.

“With the others?” His foster mother’s curiosity wouldn’t be so easily satiated. Of course not. All his efforts… All of them are tumbling down into a great void. The world is breaking around him. Or maybe it’s him? He focuses on his pale fingers, the nails, the dirt encrusted under them. His foster father’s hand hasn’t left his shoulder, but it feels too heavy.

“Do you think telling them is wise?” Hinoe’s sharp voice cuts through Natsume’s full-blown panic. In a moment of clarity, Natsume looks up to see Shigeru hovering over him, but also staring in the general direction of Hinoe with a frown on his face.

“Did you want me to lie and take all the credit?” Hatori cracks back at the youkai. Touko is blinking again, her expression thoughtful. It’s not exactly welcoming but clearly she’s not repulsed.

“It would be a very human thing to do. I’m bored, so I don’t care either way.” She points her pipe at Natsume. “But it’s a really cruel thing to do to Natsume-sama.”

Drawing his knees up to his chest, Natsume grips his socked feet in his hands. His eyes dart up to watch how both of his foster parents observe Hatori with visible curiosity, but not annoyed disbelief. Nor is it anger or disgust. Whatever they’re expressing, it isn’t bad, but he can’t decipher it when his mind is drowning in fear.  He shivers feeling sick with dread, as the redhead continues to explain about ‘the ones almost no one can see’ but, finally, she falters at their non-action and non-response and mumbles, “never mind.”

It would be a lot for anyone to take, even people as understanding as the Fujiwaras. The silence feels too long though.

“Everything okay, Takashi-kun?”

He lies that he’s fine to Touko-san, looking away. He knows he’s not. It’s obvious by the way he’s shivering with sweat. How protectively he’s holding himself, fingers anchoring him to the toes of his feet.

After his frowning foster father pulls away, a gentle hand brushes against his forehead and slides down to touch his cheek. His hands move protectively to his knees, muscles tense. But… His foster mother doesn’t shy from touching him, and some of the tension releases with his next breath. “Oh! You’re chilled!” The hand is removed, and then she shortly returns with a blanket around his shoulders. He clings to that instead.

It’s Shigeru-san who addresses the unseen elephant in the room. “Well, if the neighbors are here I have just the thing.” _What kind of response is that_ , Natsume thinks distantly. He’s heard many names for the youkai and ayakashi and spirits and demons and monsters and gods, but ‘neighbor’ wasn’t one of them. He’s seen many reactions to claims of the supernatural, but none so… anticlimactic?

How is he so calm?

Natsume watches him leave, feeling like someone else. His gut clenches and unclenches in response to his anxiety. He feels hot and cold, sweaty too like he’s got a fever. He really hates how weak his body gets. It doesn’t help that he had overdone it protecting Hatori’s room, and he wasn’t even sure if she was staying permanently. Even so, it was a guest room, and it needed protection anyway.

Vaguely, he recognizes that Touko-san is using Hatori like a translator to speak to Hinoe, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Everything is getting hazier by the moment, and then Hatori and he are alone. His attention snaps back.

He stares at Hatori. Why would she do this? She promised not to speak about…

“Lighten up, Natsume,” Hinoe chastises him. “There’s no harm in this. Besides, if you’re angry at Chise-chan, then you need to remember that her promise to you was to keep _your_ secret safe.” Hinoe was listening then? He supposes it makes sense since she’s so interested in Hatori-chan. Of course she would be; in some ways she was as bad as Nishimura with cute girls.

He blinks and his vision wavers. A fuzzy Hatori bows deeply, apologizing that she’s too honest.

“This will hurt them,” he says, dry mouth making it hard to speak. His lips are parched. Definitely a fever, then. He needs water and rest, but it’s a bit too late to try to move when shifting makes him dizzy.

He doesn’t hear Hatori’s response as Nyanko-sensei’s loud voice cuts through the mind fog demanding sake.

Natsume sighs, blanket in a death grip. His focus lurching. “Cats don’t drink, sensei!” Honestly, if sensei’s going to pretend to be a cat he needs to be believable at least. The next thing he’s aware of is that his bodyguard has bowled him over, swiping at his hair. “Off! You’re too heavy!” He weakly tries and fails to throw the heavy youkai off, only succeeding in rocking side to side.

Then sake is brought in and sensei finally hops off of him. Natsume remains on the ground, mind drifting peacefully despite the stress-inducing conversation, until Nyanko-sensei screeches a demand for sake at Touko.

Natsume’s eyes snap open in horror as he watches Touko-san calmly set a filled cup for his bodyguard. Hatori is explaining why Nyanko-sensei was even there, and Natsume is done. He’s done. He can’t handle any more of this.

Obviously, he must have fallen asleep already. This was too out of character right? Nobody normal would be this calm. He rolls away, covering his head with the blanket.

The rest of the conversation fades away in a feverish haze. He has the strangest dream about a flutist playing though, a beautiful melody threading through his fingers like soft yarn.

Then, someone is shaking his shoulder, and then Touko-san’s voice cuts through the room like a knife. “Sorry everyone! Party’s over. Now, out, out, out!!” He hears her clapping vigorously as if she were scaring away birds or rabbits from her garden. There’s plenty of grumbling and complaining but the noise fades away.

 _That’s really strange_ , he thinks sleepily, _were the Fujiwaras having other guests over besides Hatori?_

Arms lift him carefully, blanket and all. “It’s only a fever, Hatori-chan,” his foster father’s voice rumbles. “He gets them from time to time.”

The lulling sway of Shigeru-san’s steps put him back to sleep.

* * *

The sharp trill of his alarm wakes Natsume up and his arm darts out for his clock, but he forgot to set it on the ground. He sits up, a damp body-warm cloth sliding off his face. He doesn’t have to scoot far to turn off his clock. Scratching his scalp, Natsume yawns. He folds up his futon and puts it away, then gathers his school uniform and schoolbag since he forgot to wash up last night. Well, he had a fever so there wasn’t really an option to.

Last night… was weird. He recounts how nonplussed the Fujiwaras were by Hatori-chan’s announcement that she could see ayakashi. Things get kind of blurry after that, and his head kind of hurts when he thinks too much on it.

The bathroom is empty this early and he quickly washes off, knowing he doesn’t have time for a bath. He changes into his clothes and brushes his teeth. His face is haggard, but that’s not new. He quickly draws a comb through his hair, leaving it to dry and after grabbing his bag heads to the kitchen.

…which is already swarming with the Dogs’ Circle and Moustache Guy.

“Natsume-sama!” “Natsume-sama!”

“Get out of here,” he hisses at them with a strong shooing motion, “I told you that you’re only allowed in my room!”

“But, Touko-dono left sake out for us in thanks for watching over you all night,” Chobihige murmurs.

Natsume’s mouth gapes on whatever he’d planned to say. “Wh—”

“Takashi-kun! Are you feeling better?” Touko breezes in with a bright smile, totally blind to how the ayakashi scatter respectfully around her, hand coming up to touch his face and forehead. “If you feel up to it, you can go to school.” She pats his cheek softly and smiles. Humming, she pulls out a pan. “Did you want some boiled eggs for breakfast? I planned to heat up some natto on rice for Chise-chan, since she likes it.”

He’s watching her like a trapped animal. “Um… sure. Er, good morning, Touko-san.”

“Oh, goodness! Good morning to you too! We were really worried about you when you passed out like that. I’m really glad you’re already moving about. The last thing you need is more school absences.”

“Yeah…” Nervousness quails in the back of his mind. He didn’t know how to ask about last night though. The words won’t come. If she already knows, then why can’t he say anything? He picks up the empty bottle of sake, inspecting it.

“The spirits really like their sake huh? I’ll have to pick up more liquor if we’re going to be hosting them like this.” Touko glances at him with a sly look. “We were honestly worried you had a drinking problem and weren’t sure how to approach it since it didn’t seem to be affecting your schoolwork.”

Natsume blushes. He opens his mouth to respond, but when nothing comes out, he awkwardly shuts his mouth. He doesn’t know what to say. It’s his first time talking to an adult in charge of him who knows and _understands_. But the Fujiwaras thought that he… that he had been sneaking alcohol into his room? His mind flashes to Nyanko-sensei and there’s a flash of irritation at his bodyguard. That ayakashi would be the only one who felt entitled to the Fujiwaras’ store of sake.

“I’m glad you don’t, though we wouldn’t have thrown you out if you had,” she says patting his arm and then she goes back to making breakfast. “Did you sleep well?”

“Y..yes?” He pinches his forearm just in case he’s still asleep in some happy feverdream, but nope, he’s awake. And Touko is humming. A whistling white wisp comes in through the open window and hovers around before perching on his foster mother’s head staying harmonized with her. Several furballs roll along the floor and stop under the table chittering and then bounce up onto the counter to lick at the empty sake cups.

The Dogs’ Circle is drinking their own sake having decided to stand in a circle around the table and complain. Natsume doesn’t know what to do since Touko must have invited them to stay.

“What are you doing in my abode? Shoo, shoo!” Nyanko-sensei yells as he chases them out of the confines of the house. They run out complaining as they go, leaving a gust in their wake. “And stay out!”

Brushing down the hair that was disturbed by the unnatural air current, Touko giggles. “You’re loud today, Madara-san.”

That takes Natsume aback. When did she—did Hatori say something to them? She must have.

“You shouldn’t let small fry into the house like that! My noble self is plenty enough to watch over Natsume!!” Nyanko-sensei scolds as he waves a paw at her.

“Is someone bothering you, hm?” She pulls away from the stove with a plate heaped with leftover curry and sets it down in front of his bodyguard, petting his head thoroughly. “There’s a good neighbor. I’m sorry I don’t have any shrimp right now.”

Taking giant mouthfuls of food, Nyanko-sensei rumbles and purrs. He is oozing contentment, like an ordinary cat.

Natsume can’t help when the aborted snickering turns into a quiet laugh.

“Oi. Don’t laugh, Natsume! Her massage techniques are god-like!!”

“Right, right, Sensei,” Natsume says crouching down. “I won’t say anything about Touko’s ‘god-like massage technique’.”

Ducking out from under Touko’s hands, Nyanko-sensei pounces on his bent knee and bats at it. “ARE YOU TRYING TO EMBARRASS ME IN FRONT OF HER? WHAT IF SHE DECIDES THAT MY NOBLE SELF DESERVES ONLY FISH BONES!?”

“You’re the one saying those things,” Natsume says, rubbing the soft fur behind his bodyguard’s ear. “And she wouldn’t only give you fish bones.”

A now standing Touko-san clears her throat, and Natsume freezes in place. He looks up anxiously at her. Her smile has grown even brighter. “He likes to get pet that much? Is he embarrassed?” She tucks her fluttering hands behind her back, bending over to cock her head at Nyanko-sensei.

“Yeah, a bit,” Natsume manages quietly, flicking his fingers at his bodyguard’s lazy swatting.

His foster mother crouches opposite of him, brushing her apron down. She smiles at Nyanko-sensei. “I’d worry that you’d choke on fish bones, Madara-san, with such a tiny body.”

Natsume stifles the laughter, but his bodyguard doesn’t. He flops on the ground laughing uproariously.

With a soft frown, Touko straightens. Her gaze is looking between them with light confusion, and then when she catches movement beside her she turns and says, “Good morning, darling.”

“Morning, dear.” Shigeru says, still working on the knot on his tie, “Why is he laughing so hard?” He nods at Nyanko-sensei, wracked with laughter and unable to respond.

“Oh,” Touko says, “I thought he was having a strange hiccupping fit. Truly, he’s laughing? Hmmm.”

Drawing his hand down from his mouth, Natsume stiffens and stands up quickly as he meets Shigeru’s kind gaze, unsure. “Uh… Good morning.” Well, Kitamoto could hear Nyanko-sensei, so it makes sense if others could too. Taki and Touko weren’t able to, but he knows Sasada might be able to. He wonders if Nishimura could… and then admonishes himself since that would require confirming that his best friend knew his secret. Maybe Kitamoto and Nishimura talked about it?

“Good morning. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Shigeru reaches and runs a hand over his still-damp hair. “You should really blowdry your hair. You only just recovered from a fever last night,” he chides lightly before planting a light kiss on Touko’s cheek. She smiles and runs fingers over his cheek before dropping her hands to check the knot of his tie.

A timer goes off and Touko’s attention immediately whirls back to the oven. The fish she’s cooking smells great, offsetting the smell of natto. Natsume, having nothing else to do, grabs enough teacups and chopsticks for everyone. Shigeru settles down in his usual chair, opening the daily newspaper to read. His question about the laughter forgotten.

As he’s setting places with full cups of tea, Natsume notices a glimpse of red hair behind the doorway. He blinks at her shyness. “Hatori-chan, good morning.”

Face red, she sidesteps into view still in her pajamas with an adorable case of bedhead, stammers a greeting to everyone, and ducks her head down as she bolts across the room. She sits, simply looking uncomfortable.

Natsume takes his seat next to her and smiles. “I was acting childish last night. Sorry.”

“A-ah. No, I’m sorry for stressing you out so much that you got sick.”

“No, it wasn’t you,” he reassures her. “I don’t have the best constitution. If I overdo things, I get sick.”

Her hunched shoulders don’t relax though. “Ah. So, it was me.”

Natsume blinks and, when Shigeru sets the newspaper down, Natsume can’t help the slight flinch at the stern look in his direction. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” She grabs her chopsticks and stirs the sticky fermented soybeans into the rice that Touko had placed in front of her. She doesn’t say anything more, even though Natsume can tell the Fujiwaras aren’t happy with her silence.

Touko finishes setting customized plates in front of everyone else and small bowls of miso soup. The Fujiwaras are having leftover curry, while Natsume has been served two sliced eggs and a salad loaded with shredded grilled fish. He takes a giant bite of the salad when his foster mother asks, “Why do you say that, Chise-chan?”

He almost chokes before he swallows down almost-hot tea. His head swings to the right at Chise. She frowns and refuses to look him in the eye. Well, since his secret was already out, it shouldn’t be a big deal, whatever she says.

“Because he did something to my room to keep the creatures out and afterwards collapsed. I guess that’s called warding, huh?” After that, she’s eating her natto and rice with abandon, even though Natsume’s nose curls at the thought. His own hunger recedes a bit as he glances nervously up at his foster parents. They’re both looking at him with stern looks.

“Takashi! You need to take care of yourself!!” Touko looks more worried than angry, but Natsume still flinches.

“Dear.” Shigeru sends her a calming look, and she lets out a throaty, frustrated sigh with her forehead in hand. “Takashi, how much of the house have you warded? Did you use ofuda or purified stones?”

Natsume’s tongue feels tied. How? Why? These were not the words of an amateur to the supernatural. His lips work, but nothing escapes, and his hand plays with the chopsticks set on their holder. He didn’t even know you could ward with rocks.

“How many rooms?”

“Three.” He feels like a kid that stole New Year’s mochi from the fridge. And in a way, he had acted like a thief sneaking around and setting up protections when no one was around.

“That would be the master bedroom, the guestroom, and the office,” Nyanko-sensei clarifies lazily as he’s grooming.

“Thank you, Madara-san, but I’m sure Takashi could have explained that.”

“Good luck getting him to do _that_ ,” Natsume’s bodyguard grumps.

Staring down at his salad, Natsume feels very small. He doesn’t regret casting the spells, only doing it so secretively in a place that didn’t belong to him.

Shigeru’s expression softens. “You’re not in trouble, Takashi. For now, we need to finish breakfast before we’re late. But tonight, we need to talk. It would be best if Madara-san were in attendance as well. You too, Hatori-chan.”

Natsume’s mouth curls on ‘How do you know so much?’ but nothing escapes his throat again. He nods and works on devouring the salad in front of him.

“Yes, sir,” Hatori answers, hops up with the dirty dishes, and hurries to the sink to rinse them out before Touko tries to stop her. “Touko-san, is my uniform ready?”

“Oh! I forgot to bring it up to you.”

“It’s okay.” She fidgets in place.

“It’s on a hanger in the laundry room. Most of your things in the duffle bag should be dry too. Your schoolbag was wet on the outside but your things inside were okay.”

“Thank you. The meal was delicious.”

Natsume watches Hatori rush out and hears her feet patter on the wooden floor to the annex where the laundry was done.

After another beat or two after that sliding door closes, Shigeru continues, “The Kitamotos will be coming over tonight to talk about Hatori-chan’s future. She’ll most likely move here. Will you be alright with that?”

“O-of course! I mean, where else would she go?” Natsume doesn’t want to force her to go back to sliding in and out of families. He wouldn’t wish that living situation on anyone or the intense feelings of loneliness and constant misunderstanding.

“There are exorcist clans who would be more than willing,” Shigeru says calmly, but there’s a sharpness to his face, one that plainly shows how poorly the idea sits with him.

“No. Absolutely not.” Natsume thinks of the Matobas, particularly what the head of the family would do to her if he ever managed to pull her in. It was bad enough that Natsume was entangled with that clan more than he cared to be. “I’m more than willing to share y—er.” His ears heat as he realizes what he was about to say, and he looks away embarrassed. “She’s welcome to stay.”

Touko coos. “Takashi-kun, there’s more than enough love to go around.” She reaches forward and smooths down what he assumes was a cow-lick and smiles. “Now, finish eating.” She stands, gathering her plate and Shigeru’s and their bowls, humming as she heads to the sink. Shigeru takes a deep draft of his tea and picks up his newspaper again.

When Natsume glances at the clock on the wall, he inwardly panics and wolfs down most of what’s in front of him. In a hurry, he snatches up the bento boxes Touko is holding out for him and quickly thanks her.

“Make sure you walk with Chise-chan until that intersection, okay?”

“Okay!” Natsume steps out of the kitchen, Nyanko-sensei following behind.

Dressed and with her hair brushed, Hatori is already in the entryway slipping on her shoes with her bag slung over her shoulders.

“Here.”

She quietly accepts the sizeable bento box which is probably made the same way as any other lunch Natsume gets. She looks up at him curiously, while he puts on his shoes. “We’re walking?”

“We have time if we walk fast. Unless you’d rather bike?”

“I like walking.”

“We’re off!” Natsume yells towards the kitchen just as he’s pulling on his messenger bag.

“Okay! Be safe you two!!”

Natsume waits for Hatori to exit before sliding the front door shut behind them. As soon as they’re off Fujiwara property, he takes a deep breath and exhales. That was not how he thought his morning would go. He picks up the pace, but slows as soon as Hatori clutches the back of his shirt.

“You’re not mad at me for telling on you?”

“No, why would I be?” He says breezily.

“Well… you were mad last night.” She drops her grip on his shirt. Nyanko-sensei is not within sight.

“Ah,” Natsume breathes, adjusting his grip on his school bag, and somehow doesn’t trip over his feet as they continue down the road. “That...” He glances around and sees about what he expected in the brush. Ayakashi were watching rapturously as the two pass by. “I was angry because the Fujiwaras are the only ones to take me on after my dad died. I spent ten years with people who either barely tolerated me or outright resented me.” He looks down at her, not missing a step on the uneven footing of the unpaved road. “I was mad at you because I was scared that they’d cast me off like the others.” He wonders when he would stop expecting it even though he had unpacked everything months ago. “I’m still scared that a bad ayakashi will drop in and hurt them. But I guess I was really angry that I was more worried about myself and how they would react.”

They walk together in contemplative silence, enjoying the sunrise at their backs.

She clears her throat. “So last night, Shigeru-san sat down with me and told me that he could hear them, the neighbors. He told me it’s been that way since he was a small child, but that he pretended he couldn’t hear them so they wouldn’t play mean tricks on him. And that he’s heard Touko’s black crow crying about rain coming too.”

Natsume blinks, readjusting his hold on the bag by tucking it under his arm. Then, his hearing must not be as sharp as either of theirs because he’s only ever heard cawing. “I never knew.”

“Also, his parents didn’t have any awareness of them, and so didn’t believe him.” Her smile is warm and clear, but also tired.

 _Wow_ , Natsume thinks. He had more in common with his foster father than he thought. It was surreal learning all this secondhand though. “Did you tell him about the black things on your food?”

“…No…?” She answers very hesitantly.

“Why not?” They finally make it to the paved road. In another ten minutes, they would make it to the intersection to part ways since the high school was farther west than the elementary school.

“They don’t always show up. Only now and then.”

Honestly, she’s far too thin to say that with a straight face. He knows she’s missed more meals than she cares to admit by how thoroughly she inspects all food destined to be eaten and how quickly she shoves it in her mouth when it passes inspection. “I don’t think Touko would appreciate you not eating ‘now and then’,” he quips back.

She flattens her lips. “I can get Nyanko-sensei do his flash attack thing to get rid of them, so it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Hatori-chan,” Natsume says firmly, “It matters. We should figure out why they show. There must be some reason.”

She falls silent for the rest of the walk, which is fine since Natsume doesn’t have anything more to say. His shoulders feel lighter yet there’s also strength in his legs, like the ground is more solid under his feet than it was yesterday.

At the turn, he greets Tanuma and wishes Hatori a good day at school. She waves shyly after bobbing a stuttered ‘good morning’ at his friend and runs off, a silent Hinoe coasting after her.

 “Wasn’t that Kitamoto’s foster sibling?” Tanuma says as they head into town.

“Yeah. Something attacked her two nights ago, so she’s staying at my place.”

“Oh. That’s right. Dad went to purify and ward their apartment. So the trouble happened to her, huh.” Tanuma glances at him as they continue on over a bridge and towards the next intersection where they’ll meet Nishimura and Kitamoto. “Is everything okay? You seem… different.”

“Mhm.” Natsume didn’t think he was acting any differently. He smiles. “She’s like us.” Natsume leans his head back, basking in the sun. “I say that, but she sees and hears even beyond me. I’m not used to it.”

Tanuma chuckles.

“Hm?” Natsume tilts his head with a frown.

“Oh, this seems like karmic retribution, doesn’t it?” Tanuma raises his free hand to look at the sky through his fingers. “For all the times you tried to hide problems with the ayakashi from your friends, from us.”

Natsume winces but he recognizes his friend’s frustration. “That’s harsh.”

“But true,” Tanuma says easily.

After another deep breath, Natsume makes an irritated noise. “I really didn’t need to think about all the trouble she’ll get into.”

“Welcome to my world.”

Rolling his eyes skyward, Natsume can’t help the smile blossom on his face and remembers a time when Tanuma hid behind silence and a stoic expression.

“Natsume! Tanuma-kun,” Nishimura calls, jogging up to him and walking with them back to the intersection. “How’s it going? How’s Hatori-chan? Does she like sweets? I bet she likes sweets.”

Kitamoto laughs at Nishimura’s enthusiasm as the trio approach where he’s waiting. “Nishimura, give the guy a break!”

“We’re both fine. But, why are you asking me about her food preference? Wouldn’t Kitamoto be the better person to ask?”

His best friend pouts and waves his fists up and down. “He won’t tell me squat!”

Natsume looks over to Kitamoto who sighs dramatically. “He’s borderline obsessed. Won’t shut up about Chise-chan.”

Nishimura points an accusing finger at his childhood friend. “SEE! That! THAT THERE! When did ‘ _Hatori-chan’_ switch to _‘Chise-chan’_?! _”_

“You do seem too interested in a kid you’ve never met,” Tanuma deadpans.

Holding up a photo, the very same that Kitamoto had shown them days ago, Nishimura points. “Look at her! That distant, sad look! Don’t you want to help?!”

“So that’s where that picture went.”

“You dropped it,” Nishimura throws back at Kitamoto. “I forgot to give it back.”

Tanuma takes the photo and rubs his eyes. “You should take better care of people’s things.”

“What?” Nishimura says with a confused tone at the same time that Kitamoto peers at the photo and complains, “What did he do??”

“There’s a big smudge on it here. See? I can barely make out her features, mostly her hair and her ear.” Tanuma offers it to Kitamoto who inspects it with a frown, holding it up to the light. Nishimura has a fist under his chin, looking thoughtful.

“Huh,” Kitamoto says. “What kind of jerk doesn’t respect people’s property?”

“Sorry, sorry!” Nishimura’s hand has moved behind his head and his nervous laughter is back.

Then, the two turn to look at Natsume, who flinches.

“Look at this mess, Natsume!” Kitamoto laments. “Look what he did!”

Natsume stares at the photo of the youkai standing in front of Hatori and then looks back at him with the most puzzled expression on his face.

And then it hits him. Tanuma doesn’t know that this smudge is a youkai. Kitamoto obviously does. And Nishimura? Well, he’s _playing along_.

“U-um… Did you spill ink there?”

“Che! Did I spill ink there? Do I look like I do calligraphy? _No_! It was wholesome coffee!”

“You don’t drink coffee,” Kitamoto counters.

“Right! It was definitely English tea! An Earl Grey!”

“You hate English tea.”

“Natsume, you make some of the strangest friends,” Tanuma finally says as the duo’s playful argument devolves into more and more absurd suggestions on what caused the ‘smudge’. Natsume slows down and Tanuma unsurprisingly match him.

“Motor oil!!” Nishimura crows. “It was motor oil!!” The two continue on, oblivious to how far behind the quieter two are.

“Tanuma,” Natsume says quietly, “There’s a rabbit youkai standing in front of Hatori-chan in the photo.”

He blinks slowly. “Oh. So that’s why.”

Natsume didn’t know why, but he had a bad feeling. Not the hopeless one, where the world felt like it was ending and the sun would never rise again.

No, this was the one where Nishimura was about to do something wild and off-the-wall.

“Where does he have the energy?” Tanuma mutters, staring after Nishimura as he energetically punches the air talking about how he fought off two bears and sadly dropped the photograph into a puddle of the darkest mud known to man.

Taking a deep breath, Natsume closes his eyes and sighs as Nishimura continues his silly tale while Kitamoto eggs him on. “Honestly? I have no idea.”


	6. Tarnished Silver

So, whenever there’s free time, Nishimura is going around to all the different classes, dragging Natsume with him, and shoving the picture of Hatori at every person he meets. It’s a small school, so everyone knows Nishimura. But they also greet Natsume by name as well. Natsume, being naturally introverted, is envious of Kitamoto after he bowed out with some excuse about needing to exchange history notes with another classmate.

What’s surprising is that the teachers allow Nishimura to do so, apparently used to this sort of behavior. But is it because of Nishimura’s charisma or because he’s the son the mayor? Natsume ponders it as he continues to watch Nishimura play out his act, this charade of his, over and over again as if it’s totally fresh. It’s a little unsettling actually, but also impressive in a way.

What’s even more surprising is the number of people who complain about the smudge. Each time, Nishimura gives one of the reasons he came up with that morning, like he’s having far too much fun with this new game of his. What raises Natsume’s eyebrows is that people _argue_ with him about the exact darkness of the smudge and why it couldn’t be ink and what exactly did you spill on that poor photograph??

Natsume is honestly torn. The fearful part wants Nishimura to stop bothering people with this, while the honest side wants to explain that Nishimura’s ‘find that smudge’ game was no game at all. Instead, Natsume nibbles part of his lower lip to quell either one, opting to observe the outcome. He has no idea how many people in his school are sensitive to the ayakashi , but it seems important to know. So far, all of the adults roll their eyes at Nishimura’s antics, oblivious to the truth hidden in the photo.

At the start of lunch, his classmate and best friend keeps stealing bits of fish from his bento box while a laughing Kitamoto admonishes Nishimura for doing so. As Natsume closes the lid on his bento, he feels absolutely stuffed from eating too fast…

“Natsume, did you—”

Natsume looks up at Tanuma curiously but then Nishimura lands a hand on his shoulder. “I call dibs!!”

Tanuma gives him a confused look. “Wh-uh…. ”

With a wink, Nishimura grins and wags a finger like he’s naughty. “You and Taki get him three days out of the week for lunch already. Don’t be greedy!”

Poor Tanuma looks caught flatfooted by Nishimura’s proclamation and Kitamoto can’t help the chuckle when he tries to say with a straight face, “Best friends’ visitation rights shouldn’t be trounced on so easily.”

Natsume forcefully puts down a hand. “Don’t tease him!” He stands, knocking off Nishimura’s hand incidentally, and takes Tanuma by the arm and drags him into the partially empty hallway. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh.. n-nothing. I was just wondering if you were free this weekend to hang out.”

The tension in Natsume’s shoulders gives out, though the uncomfortable tightness in his stomach doesn’t. The seriousness on his face melts away until he looks embarrassed instead. “I was going to have a sleepover. You can come too.”

His friend’s eyebrows lift. “Will that be okay?”

Natsume nods and then places a hand on his face when sudden realization strikes. “I forgot to ask Touko since I was sick last night, but it should still be okay.”

“No, I mean…” Tanuma lowers his voice and brings his face closer to his ear. “Don’t you get visited then?”

Natsume blinks. “I can ask the others to keep them away.”

The door to his classroom clacks open as it slides down the rack and just as Natsume sees that it’s Nishimura his best friend pats his shoulder. “C’mon! We only have twenty minutes left!!”

“Sure, I’d like to come over,” Tanuma says then with a smile, “Have fun.” He seems amused when Natsume sends him a pointed look.

Then he belches loud enough that the departing Tanuma stops and looks back just like everyone else in the hall. There’s giggling and whispering and Natsume’s ears heat up as he looks away.

“Haha! Good one, Natsume,” Nishimura compliments as he back-pats him goodnaturedly.

“Ugh. I ate too fast.” He bends over some and burps again.

“Sure did! I think you beat a world record or something.” Nishimura’s grin is sharp as he jogs ahead. “C’mon, there’s one last person we gotta talk to!”

Natsume blinks dumbly a few times as he burps again behind a hand, walking more sedately in case a teacher’s around to yell at them. It’s about then that he realizes that Nishimura had spurned him to eat quicker by stealing his food expressly for the purpose of visiting whoever it was. A flare of anger pulses through him, but it’s short-lived when he thinks about how stupid it is getting angry over a stomachache. It isn’t like Nishimura forced him to eat faster. He simply… made it into a game, didn’t he?

“Ayukawa!” Nishimura calls into the unlocked A/V room, running up to the black-haired teen who sat by herself in the corner during their scheduled lunch break. A closed bento box sits in the chair next to her. She has some weird looking cards that she’s shuffling. Tarot cards, maybe? “Look at this! Hatori Chise just moved here. Isn’t she pretty?”

The teen looks up. Her hair is in a bob and pinned back. Besides looking very pale, she looks entirely ordinary. “Ohhh? Did you want me to tell her fortunes?”

“Of course! Why else would I be here?”

She graciously accepts the picture, pursing her lips in thought. “Hmmmm. She’s got a lot of bad luck doesn’t she? I assume something bad has happened already right?”

“Whoaaa, Ayukawa-chan! How did you know?”

“An omen is in that picture.”

“No! It’s a smudge I spilled coffee on it!”

“Hah. Don’t make me laugh. There’s nothing you can spill to make it look like that.” Her black eyes sharpen on him. “…What exactly are you up to? You can’t see omens. Not only that…” Her eyes flick towards Natsume only for a second. “But you hate this kind of thing. You think it’s stupid nonsense.”

 _Well_ , Natsume thinks, _it’s a good thing I didn’t tell him after all._

“But I’m _really_ curious to know the shape you see. It’s like a person right?”

She sighs the sigh of a much put-upon person. “In this case it’s a demon-bunny. Go ahead and make fun of me if you want to. It won’t hurt my feelings. Won’t be any different from the idiots I dealt with in Tokyo.”

“A rabbit, huh?” Nishimura tilts his head left and right at it and then smiles brightly. He pockets the photograph. “Well, we’ve gotta head back to class. You should too, Miss Tardy.”

“Meh.” She holds her chin up in her hands, staring down at her cards. “Natsume, you wait.”

Faster than Natsume expects, Nishimura whirls on her. “What do you want to talk to him about?”

“Sheesh. It’ll only be a minute, Nishimura. Don’t freak out that I’ll steal your _friend_ or anything. I told you I’m not interested.” She stares him in the eyes until he finally relents.

“Fine! Don’t upset him, okay? Or I’ll kick your ass.”

“Ohh? I’d pay to see that.” She grins happily, but a muttering Nishimura finally leaves. She cocks her head. “Nishimura! Eavesdropping is uncouth.”

The door shudders a little from the force of Nishimura’s smack and Nishimura calls out, “Fine, I’ll be down the hall…”

Ayukawa waits a few moments more. Then her eyes bore into Natsume’s as her finger taps the table. “You know that girl?”

“Yes?”

She leans towards him. Natsume can’t help feeling a bit intimidated. “I know you barely know me, but let me be clear. The Matoba Clan had my family transferred to this town to watch you and keep track of ayakashi activity.”

Natsume blinks at her, opens his mouth, and then shuts it, frowning. She looks like she has more to say and he doesn’t want to ask questions before he finishes hearing her out.

“Look, I don’t really like them, the Matobas and the rest of them. As soon as we lose our usefulness, low-level families like mine get thrown away. His directive was clear though: I wasn’t allowed to directly interfere with your activities or go out of my way to introduce myself. But now you’re here, which makes my life easier.” She raps the table with a knuckle. “A day ago we were informed that one Hatori Chise is his top priority. If he wasn’t already married with kids, I’d think he’d want to arrange an engagement to lay claim or some crap like that.”

That makes Natsume blink furiously. Matoba is married?? “ _Matoba has_ _kids_ ,” is what comes out instead.

She laughs. “Don’t worry. He’s not interested in rearing them. Thank god, because that asshole really shouldn’t be allowed around other people let alone impressionable toddlers.”

“So, Matoba wants to… kidnap Hatori?”

“Ah, nothing quite like that, but close enough.”

“Why? I mean, he’s only ever…” Well, there was that time Natsume was held hostage, but it was an honest mistake, and he had been trespassing in the middle of the woods so… “…made offers to me to join the clan.”

“Do you know anything about Irish folklore like the Small Folk or the Fae?”

“No…”

“Then, I suggest you learn. It’s crucial to understanding all the weirdness surrounding one Hatori Chise.”

The school bell begins to chime over the intercom.

“Oh shoot. Sorry. I guess you’re tardy too, now.” She simply leans back in her chair smiling. “I’ll see you in detention?”

“Hopefully, I’ll only get a warning. See you around,” Natsume says and rushes out.

“See ya.”

Thankfully, the classroom is the first one to the right of the stairs. He arrives back at the classroom slightly out of breath with the teacher nowhere in sight. There’s a murmur of ‘lucky bastard’ and a few shifty eyes towards him as he moves through the classroom. Nishimura looks a bit peeved, only waving in response to Natsume’s quiet greeting. Is he mad enough to resort to silent treatment for the rest of the day though?

Right as he slides into his desk, the teacher opens the door and nobody says a word about Natsume being late. He’s honestly grateful.

\----------

Nishimura is definitely giving him the silent treatment. It’s noticeable even to Kitamoto during their last shared time together at school: during art club. Nishimura had cram school four days a week, leaving two afternoons after school that he had free. So, of course, the both of them had practically strong-armed Natsume to sign up for it, but it honestly isn’t terrible. He just has no artistic ability. His drawing looks absolutely childish, some circles representing the mannequin’s body with blocky rectangles sticking out of it. No sense of depth or anything. It’s just bad.

Nishimura continues to draw and doesn’t say a single thing about Natsume’s drawing today when usually he’s overflowing with comments.

“It takes practice,” Kitamoto says to him after gazing at it. “You have to change the way you _look_. Yamada-sensei would say it’s because you think too abstractly.”

“Yeah, but your drawing actually looks like it’s supposed to,” Natsume mutters.

Kitamoto lets out an amused ‘pfft!’ and then pats his back. “Trust me. My drawing looked like yours when it started. This,” he points at Natsume’s drawing, “Is your _idea_ of the mannequin, not how it actually is. It’s like a visual symbol, not an accurate representation. People who can sit down and draw what they see without any training _already see the world that way_.”

“Huh…” Natsume frowns.

“Ugh, don’t lecture, Kitamoto. It’s gross,” Nishimura complains.

“Says the one who didn’t have to learn how to draw well,” follows the quip.

Nishimura runs a hand through his hair with a flip of his head. He _sparkles_ as he says, “I’m _talented_.”

“Uh-huh.”

Flipping his sketchbook around so they can see, there’s a beautiful rendition of the mannequin, complete with an airiness that reality didn’t really have. The shading gave a… lonely effect to the whole drawing. Natsume’s chest constricts a little. “It’s good,” he breathes out.

“Hmph.” Nishimura turns a bit away, going back to add a few more details. Natsume’s eyes immediately fall to his own sad drawing, barely feeling the slight.

“Wow, what did Natsume do to you?” Kitamoto asks with a steeliness that heralds anger of his own.

Natsume is halfway to shaking his head as he says, “Don’t worry about—”

Nishimura slaps his hand down on his sketchbook. “Listen. I know that quack Ayukawa filled his head with baloney. I mean, she believes in Tarot readings and thinks Astrology Signs Give Clarity to your life!”

“Ah,” Kitamoto utters, looking over to Natsume apologetically. “He’s completely irreligious, so that sort of thing sets him off. It’s shocking that he can tolerate me.”

“Your superstitions are different! It’s not like her and my old man. I mean, if I can’t see it or hear it, then there’s no way you can prove or disprove its existence!”

Natsume wants to say something, but he doesn’t know what. He’s glad he didn’t follow through on his assumption about Nishimura, but the situation he’s in is only making him tense and uneasy.

“For crying out loud, my old man has a contract with some fussy old clan because he swears I get possessed all the time. Like, I would notice if some supernatural spirits were taking over my body. Right? Not to mention, he’s constantly investigating my friends, and, get this, _swears on his father’s grave_ that ayakashi and youkai think I smell good or whatever and so that means there’s a conspiracy to be friends with me to lure me away for the exact purpose of _eating me_! It is total _bullshit_!! Just an excuse to get rid of _unworthy_ people who dare to try to be friends with the mayor’s son!”

Kitamoto and Natsume are leaning back a little when Nishimura ends his rant who is panting to catch his breath. The rest of their fellow artists grow hushed for a moment, but soon they fill that awkward silence by picking up their quiet conversations as if the outburst was nothing they hadn’t heard before.

Nishimura turns away. His head hangs down, fringe covering his face, and shoulders slump. “S’rry. You probably didn’t want to hear all about my crazy, old man. And I probably scared you by the way I was acting too. I just didn’t want to blow up on you when it’s not your fault that my family is crazy.” He covers his face. “But I blew up anyway. I’m sorry. I’m not a very good friend.”

It is then that Natsume remembers the first time Nishimura invited him to his house after he found him passed out on the side of the road. How Nishimura’s brother had asked if he ‘forced’ him to follow him, as if Nishimura was incapable of making friends without some hook to reel them in. It makes Natsume a bit sad to hear it and his chest hurts echoing with his own past hurts. He wants to tell Nishimura that it’s okay, but is afraid it’ll sound like a lie so he shuts his mouth.

Kitamoto rests a hand on their best friend’s shoulder. “Nishimura, that sounds really frustrating. And I know you probably don’t want me to say it again, but your dad really cares about you even if he’s way too harsh about it.”

“Nobody wanted to be friends with me ‘til you came around, Kitamoto.” With watery eyes, Nishimura looks up at Natsume. “And, I didn’t want you to feel like that either when you first got here, you know? You looked like you were so used to being alone that I couldn’t just leave things like that. The rumors were bad enough.”

“But everyone in the school collectively ignored them, so no worries,” Kitamoto adds in quickly when some panic enters Natsume’s eyes.

“What… what were they saying?” Natsume breathes out. He’s always been scared to ask, but…

“Like they made you out to be some mentally unstable person who caused property damage willy nilly.” When Natsume looks pained at that, Nishimura shakes his head once and waves both hands in horizontal counter motions to each other. “I mean the worst you ever get is when you act like you see something scary and run off. Or do this nervous laughter—that honestly makes me break out into a cold sweat sometimes but it’s like a bad habit so don’t worry about it!—and make us use a different path home or something, like you’re helping us actively avoid danger.”

Natsume looks away, stiffening. Kitamoto waves a hand dismissively to redirect Nishimura’s attention. “He’s superstitious too, you know. He’s had some major bad luck and a lot of times he’s got a really clear danger sense. You remember that rotted tree when we were hiking that one time?”

“Yeah! I was blown away by how quick he reacted even before we heard it cracking. It was really impressive.” He holds his hands together, his eyes lighting up. “See! You saved me from broken bones, Natsume!”

“Pretty sure it would have landed you in the ER,” Natsume mutters under his breath. Nishimura’s playful expression disappears for an instant but when Natsume focuses his attention directly on him Nishimura flutters his eyelashes with his hands clasped under his chin. “You’re my hero!”

The sparkles are almost overwhelming as their best friend begins a monologue about Natsume’s ‘heroic deeds’. Forget college, Natsume thinks, wouldn’t Nishimura do well as an actor?

“Well,” Kitamoto says interrupting Nishimura’s effusive praise which could have easily turned into a saga, “I’ve given it some thought. So if he reacts _before_ freak accidents happen I could see that people would mistake that for being at fault for them.”

“Huh. That does make sense. And it must have really sucked, Natsume.” Nishimura’s lips turn down in an expression of unhappiness before shaking his head to clear it from his mind and face. “Are you sure it’s danger sense though? This is the same guy who nearly got a concussion from the stray ball during PE class. And there was that time when that box fell off that truck, and if I hadn’t grabbed him he would’ve gotten hit.” He frowns. “Also, we saw him fall off a bridge. Kinda negates your argument, doesn’t it?”

While he keeps his face blank, Natsume’s hand clenches into the fabric of his slacks under his sketchbook. He could see himself spilling all his secrets, but this wasn’t the time or place, not with so many of their schoolmates around. Even a handful would be too many. Natsume knew they could be actively listening in without showing it.

“Hmmm.” Kitamoto’s face conveys deep thought as he frowns down at his drawing while erasing bits he didn’t like. “Well, he must be getting some signals that we aren’t, right? Even if it doesn’t work all the time.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Nishimura says with a determined nod. Natsume swallows and turns the page in his sketchbook to try again.

“So, what _did_ Ayukawa want?” Nishimura has also started a new drawing on a blank page, biting his lip as his pencil is roughly held sideways. His eyes are flicking up at Natsume and then down at the page, while he’s waiting for an answer.

“Um.” Natsume is frantically trying to think of something. “She was warning me that Hatori was in danger.” At Nishimura’s scowl and intense drawing movements, he adds, “From other people.”

“….Okay, that is _really weird_. Normally she talks about freak accidents and paying for purification rituals and shit like that. _What the hell_ ,” Nishimura complains. “Now, _I’m_ worried.” He keeps looking at Natsume like he’s not telling them everything, which makes him nervous and a bit uncomfortable.

After glancing between them, Kitamoto clears his throat. “So, Natsume to circumvent your brain from abstracting, you’ll want to focus on the _negative space_.”

Natsume simply gives his best friend a blank look. What did that even mean?

“The space around the mannequin. Focus on drawing that.”

“So… don’t look at the mannequin while I’m trying to draw it?”

Kitamoto nods with a grin. “Kinda, just draw the space around it.”

And so, that’s how they pass the time until club activities are done for the day. Natsume is really surprised that it worked. His drawing was all out of proportion, but for once someone looking at it could tell what it was supposed to be. A worm of unaccustomed pleasure squirms in his chest as he closes the sketchbook and puts it back in his bag.

It’s as he’s walking on the last leg home _by himself_ that he realizes that he forgot someone extremely important. He runs the rest of the way home, but when he slides open the front door and announces himself Hatori’s shoes aren’t in the entryway.

“Takashi-kun! Welcome back!” Before Natsume can make an excuse to run off in search for Hatori, Touko smiles brightly with a small bundle in her hands. “The school called the Kitamotos and said that Chise-chan had detention for tardiness this morning. I was hoping you could go pick her up?”

“Oh.” Now he feels a bit embarrassed from the impulse to run out and find her. He exchanges his empty bento for the bundle of whatever snack Touko packed for them. “Sure thing!”

As he runs, he realizes how much quieter it is than on his way home. It gives him the creeps. “Nyanko-sensei! Are you around, Nyanko-sensei?!”

Nothing. There are glowing eyes in the forest, but they’re not of any ayakashi he knows. Then, a hand grabs his wrist and pulls him into the brush. He looks up to see a familiar blonde, wearing an oni mask and black robes.

“Hiira—”

Natori’s shiki holds a hand over his mouth and holds a single finger over her mask where her mouth would be. She beckons him to follow, and reluctantly he does. The eerie silence is barely broken by the sound of his feet on dry grass and dirt.

Natsume feels the spark of passing through a barrier.

Laying on the ground is an unconscious man Natsume has never seen before, or at least that was his first impression. He blinks when a _scaly_ black lizard passes over the man’s cheek and scampers back down smoothly. He had thought it was a gecko but apparently the lack of sharp details had softened it considerably. He sharply looks up at Hiiragi for some explanation.

“He won’t eat. We can’t get him to do anything. Please help him,” Hiiragi says without any inflection.

There was only one person who had that black tattoo.

“Natori-san?!” He kneels next to the prone form, eyes darting over the considerably softer features. The exorcist looks absolutely ordinary now with light brown hair.

With a slight gasp, Natori blinks open his _brown_ eyes and stares up at Natsume. “I’m finished, Natsume.” He grasps Natsume’s wrist. “I can’t do anything like this. Not anything. Nothing at all.”

Natsume digs through his bag and pulls out a protein bar and a water bottle to hand to the man. “You need to eat. Drink some water.”

“What’s the _point_? Didn’t you hear what I said?” His accidental mentor continues lying in the grass staring up at the orangeish sky. “ _No one will recognize me like this_.”

What happened? Was he cursed? Natsume shook the pestering thoughts out of his mind. “Sit up,” he orders sharply. “Drink.” He thrusts the bottle at him.

Rolling to sit up, the plain-looking Natori glares angrily at him. “You don’t _get it_. There’s. No. Point!! _Everything I worked for_ —and to find out that—” Natori raises a shaking fist to his face and presses his knuckles to his forehead. “ _It’s over_.”

Tossing the protein bar into the man’s lap, Natsume uncaps the bottle and forces into the man’s hands. “I don’t know what happened and right now it’s not important. _Drink this and eat that._ ”

Natori makes a strange, strangled noise in the back of his throat and swiftly empties the bottle, crushing it with a hand and tossing it carelessly towards Hiiragi, who sidesteps it. He curses loudly as he struggles to open the wrapping around the bar and takes an uncaring bite of the protein bar when he finally does. Any grace or poise Natori had possessed seems to have left him along with his normal appearance. What’s _strange_ is that he looks like a close relation to himself, like a first cousin. It’s not as if all the bones have been shifted around; it’s that sheen constantly around him seems have vanished from him.

Natsume waits patiently for him to finish.

The exorcist does so, but doesn’t say a word. Then he tilts his head back, removing his hat and flipping his dull hair. “Ah! Natsume! I wasn’t expecting to see you,” he says with his traditionally sing-songy voice. But it just comes off as a hundred times creepier for some reason as a shiver runs up Natsume’s spine.

“You’re not sparkling,” Natsume states with a dead tone.

Balling both of his fists, Natori explodes, “ _That’s what I’ve been saying!!”_ He takes in a very deep breath and exhales slowly. “Both of my careers are finished at this rate.”

Natsume blinks because it’s not like—

“I can’t see my shiki, Natsume. Or hear them. Or touch them. _Nothing_. My job as an exorcist is finished too. There’s nothing to be done.”

Looking over Natori’s features again, Natsume nearly misses how quickly the lizard slid over the man’s face and down his arm to rest on the back of his hand.

“Is it here?” Natori asks patting the back of that hand.

Natsume starts. “…Were you cursed? We could fix this if we—”

A very sad and defeated expression passes over Natori’s face. “Natsume, listen. That girl living in your house…?”

Eyes sharpening, Natsume frowns. “What does this have to do with Hatori?”

“I was hired to protect her, after exorcising the demon after her. Which by the way was taken care of this morning…” Natori took a deep breath. “I don’t know what exactly… no, I know what she did, I just don’t _understand how_. She… picked it up and suddenly the world was much _clearer_. It was a tiny black anole with obsidian scales, but it had no eyes, and if you peered too close it seemed to _come apart_. My brain didn’t like that, so I looked away. But somehow she could peer at it at point-blank without flinching.” Natori takes a deep breath as if it will help stop the shaking in his hands and when it doesn’t he clasps them together. He probably wouldn’t be able to stand if he tried.

Natsume sits straighter, the furrows in his brows deepening. “She… picked _that_ up?” He points at the flat black lizard.

“She said it was _made of words_ before she put it back on me and then—fwoosh. I felt completely shut off from everything. My perceptions became dulled and my appearance became what it was. I don’t know how she did that Natsume. None of the exorcists, not even _Seiji_ … Not even my shikigami could do that. All I can figure is I was born with this thing masquerading as a moving tattoo, and _somehow_ it’s a spell. But I’ve never seen anything like it.” He holds both hands on his head. “ _Who is she_?”

“She’s human,” Natsume stresses. “It’s only that she gives off way too much magic. And when I look at her she has this aura of blue around her… So…” Natsume didn’t think it was possible for Natori’s pasty skin to turn paler. “So, if it’s a spell…”

“She super-charged it. Oh god.” Natori looks nauseated as he leans over pressing his face to the ground. After several deep breaths, he chuckles, “Well. I see why the demon would want to possess her.” He picks up his hat and pulls it down over his face.

“Natori, I know you’re going through a crisis, but it’s getting late and I was supposed to go pick Hatori up. You’re welcome to head to the Fujiwaras house if you need company. I’ll be by again as soon as I get her.”

Slowly Natori nods, remaining curled up and vulnerable on the ground.

“Okay. Hiiragi is here, so if you need anything I’m sure she’ll get it for you. She’s worried about you.”

“mm.”

In the distance, there’s a faint cry of, “Don’t hurt her! Leave her alone!!”

Natori jerks upright and is on his feet before Natsume can blink. “I heard a scream.”

“That was Hatori!” Natsume takes off running in the direction of her voice, feeling half-scared to death, Natori’s feet pounding behind him.

“Hiiragi, go ahead of us! Protect Hatori!”

The blonde shiki takes off like a shot, disturbing their hair in the following breeze.

“I know I won’t be much help, but I can at least do what I can.”

Natsume nods as they run.

This day has only gotten worse because Natsume just knows the Matobas will be involved. He hopes they don’t arrive too late.


End file.
